


A safe trip to home.

by Readingfanfics



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Complete, Greg saves the day, M/M, Physical Pain, Slow Burn, bad memories, jim is an arsehole, mental pain, no john whatsoever, pre show story, sherlock is kinda cute, sort of AU story, very slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9122017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: Greg Lestrade intervenes one night in the back ally of a club,meeting Sherlock Holmes who is down on his luck. Their incounter changes both their lives for good.





	1. Sherlock gets saved in the club

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION: this fic starts of bad with Jim trying to assault/rape Sherlock. Greg saves him and things only go better from then on. I included the warning just to be sure but if you have any questions don't be afraid to ask me, either on Tumblr or on KallistoIndrani@hotmail.com  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------  
> As always this story is totally written down and complete and will be updated weekly, always on Wednesday. This is sort of my New Years present to all you Sherstrade lovers out there. I hope you enjoy!  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------  
> This is the longer story I've written so far (18 chapters) and I'm very excited and scared to share this with you so any thoughts/ideas/comments are must welcome. Just try to be nice?  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------  
> Next chapter (ch2) will be uploaded Wednesday 11 January.  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------

The lights in the club were too bright, it blinded him for a second. Panic creeping in, the lights turning into fireworks, dancing before his eyes.

 

He felt the weight of someone on his side, the puff of air near his shoulder, the smell of too much alcohol in his noise. He couldn't really make out the words the man, James or Jim, was saying but it didn't matter. He smiled,his head bouncing up and down with the rhythm, lost in the beats of an old 80's song.

 

The man next to him then left, shouting something but Sherlock couldn't understand. He didn't want to either. When the 80's song ended, he made his way through the pack of bodies, shiny with sweat, bumping and grinding into each other. Most had pulled their shirts off, showing off their fit, trained upperbodies. A few had glitter covering their pecks and six packs, making them glow.

 

A lot of the men took notice of Sherlock, running their eyes hungry up and down his lean, pale body with miles of legs covered in black, tight fitted jeans. Two buttons of his deep purple shirt were open, exposing his long, delicate neck. The shirt was so tight it felt as if the buttons could pop of any minute. Not that people in the club would mind.

 

Just before he made his way to the exit someone bumped in to him. Or was he the one stumbling onto the other man? Sherlock couldn't tell, to lost in his high to care.

 

“Hey pretty boy. Want to party some more?” The man almost screamed in his ear and Sherlock flinched at the shriek in his ear. The man got closer and Sherlock recognized the scent of him, the same man from before.

 

“C'mon babe, let's get you out of here.” The man, Jim or James, grabbed his arm and dragged him to the ally near the club, the music fading just slightly. Shivers ran down Sherlock's spine when the cold night air wrapped around his body. He felt the faintest touch near his groin. A tiny alarm went off in his head but he was too strung out to pay it close enough attention.

 

He felt the hardness of the wall pressed at his back, the warmth of a tongue on his neck and the stab of pain in his groin when Jim/James grabbed too hard.

 

Sherlock wriggled underneath him, the press of the man's body too heavy, the sent of his cologne overpowering. He felt Jim's hands on his pants, opening his belt and pulling down the zipper, trying to get his hand inside.

 

Fear was creeping in, the tiny alarm in his head unbearably loud. He tried to swat the hand away, tried to call out but the man kissed his mouth, muffling any cry of protest.

 

_Can't happen. No. Don't. Please. Mycroft. Help. I'm sorry._

 

His mind was in fractions, he felt the man drag his pants down, the night air unforgiving on his prick and arse. He started trashing with more force but it didn't work, the man grabbing his prick and squeezing it hard and painfully. He was mortified when he realised it made his prick turn hard.

 

“Don't be like that pet. You”ll love it, I promise.” The man whispered in his ear, licking the shell of it. His hand going up and down Sherlock's prick, trying to get it harder.

 

Sherlock wanted to throw up, the feel of the man's hands on him too much to bare. The stench of his cologne not leaving his noise.

 

“No. No. Stop. Stop. No.” Sherlock called out before a hand went to his throat and pressed down.

“Fucking tease! Fucking slut! Coming on to me in the club and now not putting out! I'm doing you a favour pet, nobody would ever want to tap that so be quite and love it! Got that, **slut**?”

 

Sherlock's eyes started watering, the man's grip on his throat getting tighter with ever word, his black eyes full of rage.

 

Before Sherlock could do something, the weight of the man's hands on him lifted. The pressure on his body gone. He fell to his knees, taking in deep breaths of air, trembling and shaking in the cold. He whipped the tears away and got up, stuffing his still half hard prick in his pants and pulling up his jeans, closing the zip and his belt with trembling hands.

 

Someone place a hand on his shoulder and he recoiled, his back slamming into the wall behind him, his breath coming out shallow and fast.

 

“No. Don't. No.” He whimpered, not able to stop himself, making himself smaller, looking for a way out. Then a soft and gentle voice registered in his brain.

 

“Yeah, it's allright. He's gone now. He won't hurt you, you're safe. Here, put this on. You must be freezing.”

 

Sherlock looked up, trying to focus on the man in front of him. The man, shorter then Sherlock, with kind brown eyes and short brown hair, handed him a coat.

 

“Go on.” The man said, stepping back when Sherlock took the coat out of his hands. It was heavy and smelled the faintest bit like cigarettes. Putting it on, the weight of the garment, combined with the smell of tobacco and something else he couldn't place, grounded Sherlock a little. His head was still spinning though, his thoughts unfocused, going all over the place as he tried to see the man better.

 

“Better right? Now, let's get you out of this place. I have a flat a couple of blocks away.”

 

“I won't hurt you. Do you have anyone I can call instead? Anywhere to go? I'm glad to drop you off.”

 

Sherlock took in the man more closely. He was fit, with just a bit of softness around his waist. He was older then Sherlock, the lines around his mouth and eyes told him that. His brown hair had streaks of silver in it. The stranger watched Sherlock with an open expression, waiting for him to answer the question. Nothing about the man screamed evil. Sherlock felt like he could trust this man, that he would be safe with him for now.

 

“No.” Sherlock's voice was grainy and it hurt a little to talk. Bruises most already be forming on his throat from where his attacker had held him down. He shivered at the thought. His eyes were scanning the place, his fingers fidgeting, the effects of the drugs wearing off. He'd be a mess soon.

 

“No, I don't have anywhere to go.” Sherlock looked down at his feet, the confession crushing him.

 

“Okay, let's get a cab. I'm Greg Lestrade by the way.” The man held out his hand, still standing far enough to give Sherlock space.

 

“Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock shook his hand, feeling the roughness of them. He felt a spark of electricity go through him. He pulled his hand free, shoving them in the pockets of the vest, not looking at the man.

 

“Sherlock Holmes, nice to meet you. Let's go home.”

 


	2. Greg takes Sherlock home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg brings Sherlock to his flat and helps him settle in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think of the first chapter? Did you enjoy it?  
> \---------------------------------------------------  
> Next chapter (ch3) will be posted Wednesday 18 January.  
> \---------------------------------------------------

“So,the spare bedroom is just there on your left and the bathroom is 2 doors down on your right. There are extra towels in there and I'm sure I have an extra toothbrush somewhere.”

 

Greg watched Sherlock as he took in his flat, his eyes already more focused, taking in every single detail of Greg's living room. Sherlock still had Greg's coat on and it didn't seem likely the man was taking it off any time soon. Greg noticed his trembling hands and the shivers running down his body and knew it wasn't just from what had happened earlier or the cold.

 

_He is gorgeous._ Greg thought, taking in Sherlock from head to toe. Noticing his endless legs in the too tight jeans, the pale wrists that looked so delicate they would snap in half. Sherlock turned round to face him and Greg noticed the bruises on the man's throat, the mark on his neck and his blood boiled. _If only I had been there sooner._ He didn't even want to think about what would have happened if he had been there too late. Of course, he didn't need to be a genius to figure it out and the very idea made him see red for a moment.

 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and Greg shifted his gaze away. He didn't want to be staring at the other man for too long. He didn't want Sherlock to feel unsafe. Not after what had just happened, what could have happened. _Stop it!_

 

“Are you hungry? I can order something while you clean up.” Greg looked at the lean figure before him, the sharp cheekbones, the thin arms, the pale colour on his face. He could use some food. And a shower.

 

“I. I could eat.” Sherlock answered quietly, hugging Greg's coat tighter around him, another shiver running down his spine. He looked tense and tired and Greg wanted to help so bad it ached. Sherlock had something innocent and soft about him. Something that made him want to protect him instantly. Keep him safe. Make him feel loved.

 

“Any favourites?” Sherlock shook his head, taking in the living room again, eyes resting on the book case against the wall. Greg was a fervent reader, he had books on different subject and genres. The book case was getting too small though, some stacks laying next to it. He didn't have as much time to read like before because of his job but he tried to read a bit at night before calling it a day. If he wasn't exhausted by all the ugliness in the world.

 

“Right, I'll order a bit of everything and you can go take a shower if you want. I'll bring you some clothes. They will probably be too short but I think you'll manage.” He went to his bedroom, looking for some pjamapants and an old t shirt of his from back in the day. Sherlock was several inches taller them him but he was sure the clothes would fit and be more comfy then what he was wearing now. He heared the shower starting and smiled, glad Sherlock had taking his offer. He took the bundle of clothes with him, knocking on the door of the bathroom. He opened the door a little after Sherlock called out, placeing the clothes on a stool nearby.

 

“Fresh clothes are there. I think the extra toothbrush is in the medicine cabinet above the sink. If you need anything else just let me know.” Greg heard a faint 'okay' and then he went back downstairs, grabbing the phone and calling for some Chinese take away.

 


	3. First introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his shower Greg and Sherlock talk some more before dinner arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (ch4) will be posted Wednesday 25 January.  
> \-------------------------------------------------  
> If you have any questions or suggestions for tags you can tell me here or send an email to KallistoIndrani@hotmail.com.  
> \-------------------------------------------------

Sherlock let his head fall back against the tiles in the shower, trying to suppress a deep yawn and failing. He felt the water running down his face, washing away the tears that stained his cheeks. He tried to hold in the sobs but it wasn't easy, closing his eyes he was back at the club. Back in that ally, feeling the weight of that man on him, the hands on his throat, on his groin. He was sobering up slowly, remembering more of the night, of the day before. His brother's face came to him, hurt and disappointed written in every line. Sherlock's heart shrinked as he remember that face, the harsh words, the emptiness inside himself, the self hate.

He pushed off the wall, opening his eyes and grabbed the bottle of soap, a wave of coconut reached his noise and he relaxed a fraction more. He soaped up his entire body, trying to scrub away the filth he was sure still clung on him. Cleaning away the sent of the man's cologne in his face, the taste of the man's tongue in his mouth. He wanted to rip his skin off, wanted to wash it till it bled but then he'd probably have to leave this place and he didn't want to do that. Not yet anyway. His heart had stopped when he'd heard the knock on the door. His body became tense when Greg opened it and left the clothes he'd mentioned earlier. Sherlock was just able to whisper okay, afraid of what he would say if he talked more.

 

He could only relax again when he heard Greg move down the stairs. After that he got out of the shower quickly, scrubbing himself dry, maybe scrubbing a bit too hard. Towelling off his hair he finally looked in the mirror. Seeing himself reflected he gasped, wanting to scrub again. Ugly bruises were on his throat, the size of fingerprints, the colour deep purple with spots of black. He touched the mark on his neck, tooth prints left behind, feeling the indent, colouring deep red on his pale skin. It made him feel sick and he looked away, not able to watch himself any longer.

 

Opening the medicine cabinet he found the toothbrush, wincing at the movement. His back didn't have marks or bruises but being slammed into the wall hadn't been pleasant. He would probably feel it for a few days. He brushed his teeth 3 times, trying to erase the taste of the man from his mouth. It didn't really work.

 

Taking the bundle of clothes he noticed an old pair of boxers, deep grey with vertical white lines. He almost gagged, looking at his own underwear, images of a hand stuffed into them. He took the grey pair and put them on, clearing his mind of all thoughts while he changed into the borrowed clothes. The feel of them on his skin felt good, better then his own. Pulling on the big, oversized socks he wiggled his toes, loving the softness of them. The pants was too short, showing his ankles but otherwise they fit, as did the shirt. He smilled when he noticed the figure of Spiderman on the front. _What a dork._ Instantly he liked this Greg even more.

 

_Careful brother. Haven't a warned you about trusting people too easily._ Sherlock clenched his teeth, trying to not listen to the voice in his head. He wanted to believe, believe that someone could be kind to Sherlock without wanting something. He needed to believe that.

 

After combing his hair he couldn't stall anymore and with a heavy heart made his way downstairs. He found Greg on the sofa, a movie on mute. He was going over some papers and that's when Sherlock noticed the stamp on it.

 

“You're police.” Sherlock spoke harsher then he meant to, panic starting to rise inside his belly. Greg jumped a little at his voice, taking in Sherlock from head to toe. He then locked his eyes on Sherlock's, a small smile on his lips.

 

“Yes. I'm a DI with Scotland Yard. Why?” Greg asked, a frown forming between his brows as he took in Sherlock's stance.

 

“Aren't you going to arrest me?” Sherlock challenged, standing rod straight in the same spot by the door, his eyes fixed on Greg's face.

 

“No. Why would I do that? I think the night as been difficult enough for you already hasn't it?” Greg shot back, collecting the papers and putting them in the file,standing up to place them in a drawer of his desk.

 

Sherlock just stood there, watching Greg move across the room. He noticed the fine and firm backside when he bend to put the files away. The nice line of his back when he got up again. In the light of the lamp he saw more streaks of silver in the Greg's hair. For some reason it suited him. Greg looked at him expectantly and Sherlock realised he must have said something. He felt a blush form on his cheeks, he'd been too busy staring to pay attention. _Stupid!_

 

“I said, withdrawal will be hard enough as it is and being in jail won't make it any easier, so no. I'm not arresting you. I did however arrest the bastard who did that.” Greg pointed at Sherlock's neck, the neckline of the Spiderman t shirt was out of shape and you could see the bruises clearly. They stood out against Sherlock's pale skin. Sherlock went to his neck without realising, feeling the markings of teeth. He looked down at the floor, transfixed on his feet.

 

“Sorry. I didn't mean to. I just.” Greg sighed, stepping a bit closer but not invading his space. “The bastard is behind bars and will stay there for a long time if I have anything to say about it. So, you're safe okay.”

 

At that moment the bell went and Greg walked to the intercom, looking who was there.

 

“There's our dinner. Go sit down and make yourself comfortable. I'll go pay for our food.” Greg grabbed his wallet and walked down, leaving Sherlock alone, not sure what to do or how to feel.

 

 


	4. Dinner, a movie and a question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Greg spend some more time together and Sherlock asks a question that's been on his mind all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (c5) will be posted 1 February.  
> \----------------------------------------

After paying for the take away and giving the deliverer a tip, Greg stayed outside a bit longer, trying to calm down. Seeing those bruises on Sherlock's body had made him blind with rage again. He wanted to go down to the station and kick the man's arse! Seeing Sherlock bend his head down, looking at his feet as he shrank before his eyes had made Greg's heart ache. He should have kept his tongue but Sherlock needed to know he was safe.

 

He was also surprised by Sherlock's harsh tone when he found out he was a cop. Clearly he was scared of still having to go to jail but it hadn't even crossed Greg's mind. His only priority had been to help this gorgeous man. Greg took a deep breath, smiling as he remember Sherlock standing their in his too small pants and the Spiderman t shirt. It looked good on him, the sight of Sherlock's feet in the big warm socks making him irrationally happy. He'd seen Sherlock wiggle his toes from time to time and he had to try really hard not smiling like a big fool. _What has gotten into you Lestrade. Get a grip!_

 

He'd noticed Sherlock was under the influence of something the minute they got in the cab. Sherlock couldn't sit still, his hands fidgeting constantly, his knee bunching up and down. He'd also noticed Sherlock yawing and sniffing his nose. He had shivers from time to time but he had seen the sweat on his forehead. The signs were all there but that didn't mean he'd changed his mind about his offer. He knew from seeing it first hand how hard withdrawal was and sitting in a lousy cell alone, nauseas and vomiting wasn't going to help.

 

Taking one last breath, he headed back to his flat. Sherlock was sitting on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket, legs up to his chest, his eyes were red. _Had he been crying?_ Greg went to the kitchen to get some plates, forkes, knifes and glasses. He put everything on a tray and brought it to the living room, placing it all on the coffee table. Sherlock unfolded from the sofa, taking in the sent of the food, a small sigh escaping his lips and Greg felt his heart skip a beat at the sound.

 

“Help yourself.” Greg went to the bathroom, looking for some Tylenol or Ibuprofen. He found a bottle of Ibuprofen in the back of the cabinet. Going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, he placed both in front of Sherlock.

 

“Think you should take a few of those after dinner.” He sat at the other end of the sofa, leaving enough space between them. Sherlock shot him a look and Greg ignored it, starting on his food.

 

“I'm not an idiot Sherlock. Take the pills and then get some sleep.” He said, not looking at the man but keeping his eyes on the movie, some superhero film Sherlock had seen as a child. Greg felt Sherlock's gaze on him, it left a prickling sensation on his neck.

 

“Thank you.” It sounded hesitant and soft. Greg saw Sherlock take the pills and the water out of the corner of his eyes. Another yawn escaped the man's lips and Greg had to bite down a smile. _He looks so young._

 

They finished their dinner in silence, Greg noticing that Sherlock emptied his whole plate, eyes fixed on the movie. It had been some time that Greg had company at night and it felt good. The silence wasn't awkward or oppressing and he noticed Sherlock relax more as time passed, his eyes getting heavier after he finished his plate.

 

“Now, I'm leaving two pills here next to the bottle of water. Call me if you need anything else okay, I'm right down the hall.” Greg opened the door to the spare bedroom, flicking on the light. Sherlock flinched a little at the brightness of it, stepping inside without touching Greg. The bedroom was simple with a large bed, a night stand, a closet and a little desk with some books on top. The sheets were soft grey and smelled freshly washed. Greg looked at Sherlock, scanning the room like he had done in the living room. He stepped further in, sitting down on the bed and testing out the firmness of the matress. He looked up at Greg, his face relaxed and his body less tense.

 

“Thank you.” It was said so soflty Greg wasn't sure Sherlock had said it at all. He turned to leave when Sherlock called out.

 

“Why are you doing this for me? Why are you helping me?”

 

Greg turned to look at the younger man, he looked tired and broken, the bruises already darker in colour then a few hours before. Greg locked his eyes to Sherlock's grey/blue ones. Sherlock was watching him curiously with a hint of fear. His eyes went from Greg's face to the room, landing on the bed for a moment before going to Greg again, more worry in his eyes. Dread settled into Greg's stomach and he swallowed before speaking, his hand gripping the doorknob too tight.

 

“Goodnight Sherlock. Call me when you need anything okay.” With that Greg closed the door. He headed back to the living room, cleaning up the mess and turning of the TV before going to his own room and getting ready for bed, the look on Sherlock's face in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

 


	5. Sherlock has a nightmare and Greg is there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (6) will be posted Wednesday 8 February.

_Hey pretty boy._

 

_Sherlock' Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you._

 

_You”ll love it, I promise._

 

“No, no, stop, please, no!”

 

_Don't lie to me Sherlock! What have you taken?!_

 

_Fucking tease! Fucking slut!_

 

“Sherlock.”

 

_You are ruining yourself. That brilliant mind of yours!_

 

_I'm doing you a favour **pet**._

 

_So much potential!_

 

“Sherlock.”

 

_Nobody will ever want you now._

 

“No. No. Stop. Stop. No.”

 

_Wanna party some more?_

 

_It's as if you want to hurt me Sherlock. Mother would be so disappointed if she saw you now!_

 

_Be quite and love it!_

 

“Sherlock.”

 

_Caring is not an advantage Sherlock._

 

_Nobody could ever love a junkie!_

 

“NO PLEASE DON'T!”

 

_How's ever going to love you, broken and pathetic._

 

“SHERLOCK!”

 

 

Sherlock woke up startled by the scream. It bounced off the walls and right into his head. He trashed, tangling himself in the sheets. His cheeks were wet with tears and for a few blinding moments he couldn't recall where he was or what had happened.

 

“Sherlock. Sherlock it's me Greg. Please listen to me. It's me. You're safe. Breath for me please. Sherlock.”

 

Hearing the voice he calmed down a fraction, stopping to free himself from the prison he thought he was in. Stopping from running away from that alley. He took large breaths, trying to slow his heart, blinking his eyes rapidly, figuring out where he was.

 

The soft light of the night lamp lit up just enough for Sherlock to take in the bed he was in, the desk with a stack of books on it and just near his bed a man. For a millisecond he thought it was The Man but soon he recognised the shape of him, noticed the silver streaks in his hair. Relief flooded him instantly, reaching out.

 

“Greg.”

 

Greg came closer, sitting on the side of the bed, taking Sherlock's hand after a second of hesitation. He looked tired, a small reassuring smile on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. Sherlock looked at their hands locked, Greg was stroking it with his thumb, it felt warm and safe and Sherlock didn't want it to end. After a while his breathing finally evened out and shame crept in.

 

His cheeks still wet and now turning red he pulled his hand out of Greg's, already missing the feel of it. Greg handed him a handkerchief and looked Sherlock over. It most have not been a good sight as Greg's lips formed a tight line, his eyes narrowing. He even clenched his fist and Sherlock couldn't figure out what he had done wrong.

 

“Greg?” It came out as a question, patheticly soft and shaken. Whipping away the tears, his mouth suddenly too dry to even ask more. Greg stood, taking the glass of water and handing it to Sherlock. His sudden anger gone as quickly as it had come.

 

“Drink the rest Sherlock. How are you feeling? Any nausea or cramps?” Greg stood next to the bed, refilling the glass, taking out 2 more pills.

 

“You could probably use these.” He handed them over, careful not to touch Sherlock and Sherlock wasn't sure if he was relieved or offended. His hand still felt warm and the spot Greg had rubbed tingled.

 

“Thanks.” His voice sounded less scratchy, the water soothing his mouth and throat. It felt like his whole body had been beating up and left to rot. He winched when he rearranged himself against the pillows.

“I heard you scream and found you tossing and turning. You scared me there for a moment. Do you.... Do you want to talk about it?” Greg almost whispered, setting the glass back on the night stand, his eyes staring at a spot next to Sherlock's shoulder.

 

“Just. No. Not now.” Sherlock felt his eyes get heavy again. He felt Greg stroke his hair and it felt amazing. He instinctively got closer to him, a small sigh leaving his lips. He still felt so tired.

 

“Night Sherlock, don't worry. I'm just a call away.” Greg removed his hand from Sherlock's head and he felt the emptiness it felt behind. He fell back to sleep in mere seconds, not noticing Greg watched him, a sad and worried look in his eyes, before leaving, shutting the door softly.

 


	6. Breakfast and Sherlock has some questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are getting longer... Slowly...

Sherlock woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. For a moment he couldn't figure out where he was. It smelled different, clean. The sounds coming from outside where different too, not the loud noises of people screaming but just cars riding by, people moving around above his head. He could hear Greg in the kitchen, the sounds of utensils being used, the radio in the background, Greg humming along. Greg. He stretched out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and gave a big yawn. He felt better then last night but it was still like he had been hit by a bus. Or a small lorry.

 

Remembering the night before Sherlock shivered. He'd had a nightmare where he was right back at that place, feeling afraid and hopeless with no way to escape. The feeling of hands on his body, the smell of cologne, the taste of bear on his tongue. He shivered again, suddenly cold to the bone in his warm bed. Greg had been so kind and loving and Sherlock blushed at the thought of Greg stroking his cheek, the soft voice as he helped Sherlock calm down, the compassion in his eyes.

 

He didn't like it when people saw him weak and pathetic but it seemed with Greg that was the only way he ever looked. He bit his bottom lip, worry in his mind. He still hadn't figured out why this stranger, they had only met not a day ago, was helping him. What did he want? Why was he doing this? Was this a trick from his brother? Someone Mycroft had hired to keep an eye on him and report back to? He wouldn't put it past the bastard.

 

He needed some answers and fast, he couldn't stay here. Greg had already been much to generous, bringing him here, giving him spare clothes, letting him crash for the night. Enough was enough! Sherlock could look after himself, he didn't need anyone!

 

_Don't you brother?_

 

Sherlock stomped out of bed, shaking his head to get his brother's voice out of his head. He was going to grab a quick shower, say thank you to Greg and leave. No matter how much he wanted to stay here, safe and warm, he couldn't. Nobody ever did something kind for free.

 

“Ah Sherlock, there you are. Hope bacon and eggs are okay? The breakfast of champions so. What's wrong?” Greg set the place down on the table, a frown on his face. Sherlock still looked pale and fragile and Greg didn't like the look of those bruises on his neck. He didn't like the way Sherlock wasn't looking at him either.

 

“What's wrong? Are you okay? Sit down, you look like you're about to faint.” Greg got closer, pulling out a chair and guiding Sherlock down. He noticed Sherlock winch when he sat and it made his blood boil. _That bastard!_

“I. I wanted to say thank you. For what you did for me last night.” Sherlock spoke softly, his eyes on the table, his hands in his lap. He'd showered and his hair was still wet, the sent of Greg's soap in the air. It made Greg feel a little light headed. Sherlock had his own clothes back on but Greg saw a part of his socks sticking out. He barely suppresses a smile when he realised Sherlock was still wearing his old socks. For some reason it made him happy.

 

“I. Nobody has ever. It was really nice of you but I should go now.” Sherlock finally looked up, his hands twitching in his lap. “You've already done more then enough for me and I owe you.” The end of that sounded strained and Greg's frown got deeper.

 

Sherlock was getting up from his chair, walking to the door, looking at Greg over his shoulder. “ I'll see myself out. Thanks again Mister Lestrade.”

 

It was the Mister Lestrade that did it. Before he could even think about it some more he was in front of Sherlock, blocking his way to the door. Sherlock flinched and Greg held his hands up in the air, looking at Sherlock with confusion.

 

“Wait. Why are you going? You're still healing. You shouldn't be out right now. Your body needs rest. And what's with the Mister? Just call me Greg.”

 

“I can't stay. I need to go.”

 

“Why? Did I do something wrong? Did I overstep? You need to tell me Sherlock. Please don't go. Not now anyway.”

 

“You've done more then enough G-Greg. I can't keep bothering you.”

 

“Bothering me? Who ever said you were a bother? I don't mind okay. I have enough space for the both of us.” Greg let down his hands. He shook his head, stepping a bit closer to Sherlock. Sherlock didn't back down but he did see a flicker of fear in his blue/grey eyes that made Greg's heart go cold. It was the same look he'd had when Greg showed him his room.

 

“Sherlock, I would never. I won't hurt you Sherlock. I promise. I don't expect anything from you.”

 

“Why are you helping me Greg, why are you being so damn nice? What do you want from me?” Sherlock sounded agitated and angry, staring Greg down with fury in his eyes, the fear replaced by determination and anger as he looked at Greg.

 

“Clearly you want something of me. Why else take me to your home. You don't even know me. Do you want to fuck me? Is this just a plan to get me on my knees, arse in the air as you pound into me.” Sherlock snarled, eyes going over Greg's frame with something close to hate.

 

“Or do you want me to suck you off? Is that it? A quick thank you for your compassion and kindness?” Sherlock dropped to his knees, grabbing Greg's fly and trying to open it.

 

Greg recoiled like he was stung by a snake. He hit the door hard, his hands pushing away Sherlock's with force, making Sherlock fall on his backside, a yell of pain filling the room. Greg looked in horror and felt like he wanted to puck.

 

“Sherlock! Are you okay? Are you hurt, I'm sorry I didn't mean.” He took a step forward but Sherlock scrambled up to his knees again, hands going to Greg's front with even more force then before. Greg saw tears in Sherlock's eyes but Sherlock didn't notice, his hands trying to open the zip again.

 

“It's fine. I'm excellent at giving head. You'll love it. Or do you want to fuck me? That's okay too if you have a condom.” Sherlock was rambling, trying to pull down Greg's pants. He looked pale and sweat was forming on his brow.

“SHERLOCK STOP IT!”

 

Sherlock froze, his whole body going ridged. His hands dropped down to his sides, his head hanging down, eyes closed. Greg could see a tear rolling down Sherlock's cheek and falling to the floor.

 

“I don't. I never.” Greg sighed in frustration. He dropped down in front of Sherlock, placing a hand on his shoulder. He felt Sherlock's body go even more stiff and Greg felt his stomach roll.

 

“Look at me. Sherlock, please.” When Sherlock didn't Greg squeezed his shoulder once before dropping his hand down. He used a knuckle to lift Sherlock's chin up. Greg's breach caught at all the emotions in Sherlock's eyes.

 

“Oh Sherlock. I would never ask that of you. Never. That's not why I helped you. I saw a kid in trouble and I acted on instinct. Then when you told me you had nowhere to go it just seemed logical to help you out. Like I said, I don't expect anything from you. If you want to leave you can but you're still in bad shape, still going through withdrawal and this is a safe place. I swear I will never touch you without permission. I will never hurt you.”

 

Greg withdrew his hand again, standing up and offering Sherlock some space. He handed out his hand to help Sherlock up on his feet and gave a tiny smile when Sherlock took it, allowing Greg to help him. As soon as he was on his feet again, he let go of Greg's hand and took a step back. Greg tried to not feel disappointed but it stung.

 

“Let's have breakfast now okay.” Greg walked back to the kitchen, grabbing Sherlock's plate and heating it up again in the microwave.

 

“I'll be right back.” Sherlock went upstairs to the bathroom. Closing the door and running to the toilet, gagging above it, tears spilling from his eyes. There wasn't much in his stomach to begin with so after a while he settled down, getting up and sitting on the edge of the bath.

 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ He could kick himself, the shame so great he didn't know if he could ever leave this spot. _Greg is going to hate me now_. He stood up, going to the sink and splashing some water in his face, erasing the tears but not the humiliation. It went on in his mind, seeing himself sit on his knees in from of Greg, his hands shaking as he tried to open the zipper. The disgust in Greg's eyes as he realised what Sherlock was offering.

 

“ _Well done brother.”_

 

He gritted his teeth. His knuckles going white from grabbing the sink so hard. Why had he done that? It was stupid. Greg would think he was a freak, a weirdo. He shouldn't stay here, not after that spectacle. Greg would never look at him with respect again.

 

“This is a disaster.”

 

A knock on the door startled Sherlock, getting him out of his thoughts.

 

“Sherlock. Stop beating yourself up. Come downstairs, breakfast is waiting.” Greg's voice sounded so loving, He didn't hear any hate or disgust in it. He looked at the door in shock. How did he know?

 

“Sherlock. Please. Come downstairs, this doesn't change my offer. You're still welcome here, for as long as you need.”

 

Sherlock walked up to the door, placing his head against it.

 

“Are you- are you sure? I should go, I've done enough damage, I've..”

He couldn't speak anymore, his troath tight as he heard Greg rattle the doorknob.

 

“Sherlock, please open up. Let's talk. Please.”

 

Sherlock sighed, straithening up and opening the door. Greg looked at him with worry and Sherlock looked down, shame still very present as he rememberd what he'd done.

 

“It's okay Sherlock. I guess in a way it's normal to think I want something from you, in that way. I'm not mad, I was just shocked. Did I hurt you?”

 

Greg looked Sherlock over, a pained expression on his face as Sherlock shook his head.

 

“It's nothing. I mean, it's nothing.” Sherlock shrugged, not looking at Greg.

 

“I'm so sorry. Do you need anything for the pain? Do you need a doctor to look at you? Anything you need Sherlock, you only have to ask.”

 

Greg reached out but stopped himself mid motion, biting his lip as he forced his hand to his side. Sherlock's eyes were on him, gratitude clear in them and Greg felt a weight lift off his shoulder.

 

“Maybe a painkiller would be helpful. I don't need a doctor Greg, it's just bruises and sore muscles from hitting the wall so hard. It's going to pass. Th-thank you.”

 

Sherlock's voice wavered a little and Greg gave a bright smile.

 

“Let's go eat breakfast, I don't know about you but I could eat a horse right about now.”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and Greg laughed, stepping back as Sherlock got out of the bath room, following Greg to the kitchen. Greg's smile was bright like the sun and Sherlock knew he'd made the right choice.

 

“Bacon and eggs sounds great Greg.”

 


	7. Greg get's to know some people in Sherlock's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (8) will be posted 22 February!  
> \-------------------------------------------------

A week later Greg got back from a crime scene, soaked through. The rain had been coming all day and it didn't seem like it would end soon. It didn't improve anyone's mood too. Greg felt snappy and irritated himself, his new rain coat wasn't holding off the rain at all and the thing had cost a small fortune, at least with the salary he was making. He felt drops of water run down his spine and he shivered, his mood slowly getting to a low point.

 

Heading to the locker room he shed his useless coat and dumped it in the bin. 'Shop for a better coat' was going on his to buy list. He found a fresh, and more importantly, dry shirt in his locker. Towelling himself off he let his thought's drift to Sherlock. The last week hadn't been easy for him, nausea and vomiting, followed by abdominal cramps. At least Greg was there to help him as much as he could, taking a couple of days off to help him. It hurt Greg's heart to even think of Sherlock all sweaty and shivering and in pain. He was very pleased Sherlock had decided to stay after all cause the more time they spend together the more Greg was fascinated by the man.

 

He was smart, the smartest man Greg had ever met. Sherlock absorbed fast, going through Greg's books in record speed. He had a fascinating for crime related books, he loved reading about serial killers and crime scenes and even asked if he could look at old cases. For now Greg had hold him off but Sherlock was getting better by the day and he wanted to pick the man's brains, see what Sherlock had to say. It was a little unorthodox maybe but Greg was sure Sherlock would be discreet. It was another thing Greg had found out, Sherlock was a very private person. Questions about his past were often met with silence, or a vague answer. It felt Greg a little worried but he respected the man's privacy, glad to hear bits and pieces.

He put on the clean shirt, it wasn't the best one he had and it felt hard on his skin bur for now it would have to do. He really wanted a hot, steamy shower but that was something to look forward to in a couple of hours. That and Sherlock.

 

He smiled, the idea of Sherlock waiting for him when he got home filled his heart with warmth and happiness. After that horrible morning Sherlock hadn't asked Greg why he was helping him. He just took what Greg gave and Greg was more then happy to give Sherlock everything he wanted and Sherlock turned out to be very low maintenance. Maybe it was shyness, thinking he would owe even more to Greg but Sherlock didn't ask a lot. He only wanted to read more books, ask questions about Greg's work, the cases he was working on or had worked on.

 

After Sherlock had gone back to his room to get some more rest Greg had been startled by a knock on the door. He opened it up for a beautiful woman, long black hair, bright green eyes. Next to her had been a black, expensive looking suitcase.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Mr. Lestrade right? These are some of Sherlock's belongings. Could you give them to him?” She didn't even wait for an answer, just pulled out her phone and turned around.

 

“Hey! Who are you? How do you know Sherlock?”

 

“Just a friend. Take good care of him Mr. Lestrade. He seems to trust you. Don't make him regret it.” She looked coolly at him and Greg had to fight the urge to take a step back. Seemingly pleased she smirked and headed down the stairs, already talking to someone on the phone.

 

At least Sherlock had been delighted to see the suitcase, a faint blush on his cheeks as he took it from Greg, bringing it straight to his room. He didn't seem surprised by it and Greg didn't want to ask more. If she was a friend of Sherlocks then that was all he needed to know for now.

 

After grabbing a coffee he headed back to his office, ready to go over the facts they had so far and confering with his colleuge.

 

He'd just sat down and picked up a file when someone entered his office without knocking. It put him on edge instantly, the strong smell of aftershave not helping.

 

“Can I help you?” Greg asked, looking up at the man standing in his doorway. Umbrella in hand, not a drip of rain on him. For some reason that irritated him. The arrogant smile on the man's face irritated him even more.

 

“Detective Inspector Lestrade, pleasure to meet you.” The man didn't offer his hand, just kept standing by the door, fake casually leaning on his dark, expensive looking, umbrella.

 

“How can I help you?”

 

“Well, you could explain to me how you know Sherlock Holmes and what your **intentions** with him are.”

 

“Intentions?' Greg's face went blank, a tight line on his lips, his eyes narrowing just slightly while he took the other man in.

 

“That's none of your business.” His voice was harsg and cold and the ginger haired man raised his brow. It felt to Greg like he was mocking him and it didn't help improve his already bad mood.

 

“He's been living with you for over a week now. Believe me when I say it most certainly is my business.” Something about the man reminded him of Sherlock. That cool, calculating gaze, that lifted chin that said 'just try me', the way he held himself, the line of his shoulders.

The man came closer and the urge to stand and call his bluff was overwhelming but Greg controlled himself in time. He didn't want to show this man the effect he had on him but he smirked none the less. Clearly he also noticed and saw everything within a second.

 

And that's when it clicked.

 

“You're his brother aren't you? Mycroft.”

 

Greg had heard the name over the last few days, mostly when Sherlock woke up from a nightmare. Clearly his brother was not a good memory for him, he refused to talk about him at all. When Greg had ask who Mycroft was Sherlock had just said 'my brother' in a clip off tone and that was it. No more explaining. It was a subject that was off limits. Seeing the man stand here now before him was not good at all.

 

Mycroft raised his eyebrows, his mouth slightly fallen open and now it was Greg's turn to smirk. _Take that Mycroft Holmes._

 

“Why Detective Inspector, you are smarter then you seem indeed. My assistant was right about you after all. Very interesting.”

 

Mycroft looked at him intently. Greg was getting used to that stare by now.

 

“I trust it you will update me on his progress. Not for nothing of course. I worry about him constantly you see.” Mycroft sighed.

 

“Doesn't look like it. Where were you a week and 2 days ago?” Greg couldn't keep the accusation out of his voice. Mycroft's face hardened for a second and Greg thought he looked dangerous. Someone to look out for.

 

“Do not pretend to know anything about our history, Detective Inspector. You know nothing, only what my brother wants you to know.” Mycroft's grip on his umbrella was too tight, his knuckles white.

 

Greg didn't back down. “For now, I know enough. And no, I won't be updating you, if you want to know how he is talk to him personally.” He crossed his arms, stubbornly keeping the other man's gaze.

 

“Do not take advantage of my brother DI Lestrade, he trusts too easily and has been hurt by that before.”

 

“Get out.” The way Mycroft said advantage made Greg's blood run cold. It reminded him of Sherlock on his knees, trying to open his fly. He stood up from his chair, staring Mycroft down. The urge to punch him in the face was great, he balled his hands into fists. Mycroft watched him with a cool expression on his face, not moving.

 

“Get out, or I'll throw you out.”

 

Apparently he must have been convincing cause without another word Mycroft was gone. Greg stared at the empty space left behind for a full minute, wrapping his brain around what had just happened. His body was still on edge, ready to fight, ready to do something. He took a few deep breaths, trying to relax and slow down his mind.

 

He let out a deep sigh, debating whether to text Sherlock about it. He'd bough him a phone a few days ago,after learning that his old one was broken. It had been a fight, Sherlock not wanting Greg to spend money on him and Greg sure that he wanted to spend money on him.

 

“You need a phone Sherlock.”

“Why? Nobody is going to call me.”

 

“I want you to be able to contact me when you need to. Now stop arguing and let's go.”

 

Greg had turned, grabbing his coat but he'd seen the look on Sherlock's face, surprise and happiness. It had been enough to make Greg feel warm all week.

 

He pulled his phone out but then decided against it, Sherlock still needed rest and this was a conversation not to have over the phone. If to have at all. He wasn't sure how Sherlock would react to the news, from the bits and pieces he'd heard when Sherlock tossed and turned a lot had happened between them and Greg was sure must of it wasn't good. It said a lot that Mycroft himself hadn't come round with the suitcase but his assistant instead.

 

Checking his watch he made up his mind. He'd do more paperwork till 6 and then head home, buying some of Sherlock's favourites on the way. The man wasn't looking like a ghost anymore but Greg wanted him to have some more meat on his bones. Tempting Sherlock with food he liked seemed to help for now. And maybe it would help smooth down the edges around his news.

 

Getting Sherlock to eat had been a trial and error sort of a thing. Sherlock didn't like a lot and what he did like wasn't really healthy. If Greg had left it to him, they'd been eating pancakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner, every day.

 

Sherlock explained some food to him were too hard, too soft, too grainy. At first Greg though he'd made it up but he'd seen him gag and run to the sink to spit out food enough times now to know it was a real thing. Sherlock had been embarrassed every time it happened and Greg was determined to help Sherlock.

 

By now he had a list in his head of stuff Sherlock did like and he was buying them all tonight. Again, he was giddy with the prospect of finding Sherlock at home waiting for him, his noise in a book, wrapped up in one of Greg's old sweaters. He didn't try and question those feelings too much. For now he was more then happy to help Sherlock recover, to get to know him, to watch crap telly with him at night, or answer a million questions about forensics and famous serial killers.

 

All the rest, the intense stares, the happiness at seeing Sherlock on his sofa, the blush on Sherlock's face when Greg praised him could wait. Why run when you first needed to walk right?

 


	8. Sherlock finds out about the talk Greg had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (9) will be posted Wednesday 1 March  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He did what?!”

 

Greg had gotten home, his arms full with groceries and goodies Sherlock liked to eat. Sherlock had been sitting on his spot in the sofa, noise stuck in a book and Greg took a moment to appreciate it. Sherlock looked so young when he sat like that, lost in his reading, his tongue coming out to wet his lips from time to time, elegant fingers flipping the pages. Greg coached, heat rising on his face and Sherlock had looked up in delight, eyes bright and shining as he got off the sofa to take some of Greg's bags.

 

Now Sherlock's eyes were darker, his face in a scowl as Greg told him about Mycroft's visit. He was glad Sherlock had eaten half his plate, smiling gratefully to Greg when he realised it was all the food he liked.

 

“You don't have to do this for me you know. You should eat what you like.”

 

“It's not a problem Sherlock, I eat almost anything, it's no big deal.”

 

But to Sherlock it was, he hadn't eaten so good and so much in a long time, knowing Greg went out of his way to get the food he liked warmed his heart. It was dangerous, this warm, fuzzy feeling in his body whenever he thought of Greg but he also didn't want to stop.

 

“He was just looking out for you Sherlock. Granted, in a weird, intimidating way but he does care for you. At least, I'm 80% sure.”

 

Greg spoke around a bite of Thai, watching Sherlock with attention as he replayed that line inside his head. Greg was right, Mycroft did care for him. Sometimes Sherlock thought he cared too much. He felt shame creep up as he remember the last conversation he'd had with his brother. It still hurt, the rage in Mycroft's voice, the shame and pity in his eyes.

 

Sherlock blinked his eyes, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

 

“Hey, you can trust me. I promise I won't tell him a thing.”

 

Greg's voice was soft as he hesitantly, gently, placed his hand on Sherlock's for a minute. Sherlock felt the warmth of it instantly, the tiny movement of Greg's thumb rubbing back and forth once. It felt familiar and grounding and Sherlock smiled up at Greg, nodding his head.

 

“I know you won't. My brother is not a bad man, he just.” Sherlock let out a sigh. “He's been through a lot, with me. Because of me.”

 

Sherlock looked down at his place, sadness in his voice. Greg squeezed his hand lightly before getting up, taking the plates and food containers away.

 

“Family is never easy. I love my brother and sisters with all my heart but put us in a room together for a few hours and there's chaos. I think it's just the way family works.”

 

Sherlock huffed out a laugh and Greg's smile got even bigger. He lived for Sherlock's laugh, it made him look care free, even more beautiful.

 

“I suppose. Of course, being a junkie doesn't help much to keep the family peace.” Sherlock got up, bitterness in his voice as he watched Greg turn around to face him.

 

“How are you feeling Sherlock?”

 

Sherlock was clean now but he hadn't thought about the aftermath. Did Sherlock already need drugs? Had he been out, trying to find some? How serious was this? Sherlock looked at him with narrowed eyes and Greg shrugged a shoulder, helplessness in the gesture. He needed to know.

 

“I'm fine. I can do without, really. It was a slip up, I've been clean for 3 months now. It won't happen again, I won't let it.”

 

Sherlock sounded determened and Greg wanted to believe him, wanted to trust me.

“I swear Greg. I'm clean and I'll stay clean.”

 

Sherlock got closer, taking Greg's hands in his as he looked up, his expression honest and open.

 

“You saved me. You literally saved my life. The least I can do is stay clean and make you proud of me.”

 

Greg felt a tightness in his chest at Sherlock's words and he wanted to hug him. Wrap him up around himself and keep him safe. It was like a flood, the protectiveness he felt towards this person. It was terrifying.

 

“You shouldn't do it for me Sherlock. Do it for yourself okay. You have an amazing mind, you could do so much. I want you to have all the possibilities in the world.”

He released his hands out of Sherlock's grip, grabbing a curl and pulling it lightly. He heard Sherlock hold his breath and he let go, stepping back, his heart racing.

 

“What do you want to do tonight? Watch some movies or read your book?”

 

Sherlock still looked dazed, a light blush on his cheeks. Greg cleared his throat and Sherlock snapped out of it, blinking his eyes before focusing on Greg.

 

“A m-movie sounds lovely. I'll be right back.”

 

Greg watched Sherlock leave the room, almost running and he cursed himself. He shouldn't have done that, he was out of line and now Sherlock was probably panicking. Again because of him. _Dammit!_

 

He wanted to go after the man but forced himself to clean up instead, giving Sherlock some time and space. After 10 minutes Sherlock came back, relaxed and going to the sofa, flopping down on his spot. Greg released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and came to sit on his side of the sofa, taking the remote and selecting a movie.

 

The rest of the evening went by in comfortable silence, Sherlock watching the movie with his lazor sharp focus while Greg watched him from time to time out of the corner of his eyes. It was perfect, everything Greg wanted and he'd never felt so at peace before.

 


	9. Violin music and plans for the future.

The next morning Greg woke up to the sound of beautiful violin music. He rolled out of bed, tracking the sound down to the living room and his mouth fell open in wonder. Sherlock stood by the window, back turned to Greg as he played his violin. The melody was beautiful, a little haunting but with a hint of happiness in it, a possibility of happiness. He couldn't take this eyes of Sherlock, standing elegant like a Greek God, his fingers working the bow with precise, delicate movement. Greg's eyes travelled down Sherlock's form, wrapped in a dark blue dressing gown, closed at his waist with a sash. His long legs were clad in black, silk looking pyjama pants and he looked gorgeous, almost out of this world gorgeous.

 

Sherlock slightly turned at that moment, Greg taking in his profile as he played, the sharp lines of his cheekbone, his fine noise, the black curls near his ear. Sherlock's eyes were closed, a soft but concentrated expression on his face and it took his breath away. His heart swelled and he knew, right then, that he was lost. Hopelessly in love with the wonder and mystery that was Sherlock Holmes.

 

A moment later the music stopped and Greg was back in his living room. He clapped his hands and Sherlock jumped, eyes wide as he saw Greg standing there.

 

“Did I wake you? I'm sorry, it's just been so long since I played and.” Sherlock stopped talking as Greg shook his head fondly, crossing the distance. Something about Greg's eyes was different and Sherlock felt his heart speed up. He placed his violin back in it's case and Greg took his hand as soon as he was done, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it. Sherlock's breath caught and he felt the spot burn.

 

“That was amazing. You are full of surprises aren't you?”

 

Sherlock blushed even more, feeling his hand tingle as Greg released it, a loving look in his eyes.

 

“You liked it?” Sherlock whispered, his eyes cast down as he asked. He knew his playing was good but he'd stopped playing for people a long time ago. He mostly played at night and never too long cause Mother hated waking up by the sounds. He knew Greg would hear it, the flat was big but not big enough to dampen the sound but Sherlock had wanted Greg to hear, to hear his music as he woke up from slumber, a smile on his lips as he layed in bed and listened. He hadn't imagined Greg getting up, coming out to hear and see him play. The look on Greg's face made him feel light headed, the tenderness in his gaze and voice as he praised Sherlock. It had been a long time since someone had spoken so kindly to him, with respect and care. He felt tears form in his eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to stop them from falling.

 

“Oh lo- Sherlock, don't cry.”

 

Of course Greg had seen it, he was the most observant person he'd met, apart from himself and his brother of course, and it was at times like these that he could understand why people would be upset or scared of him. He looked up and Greg brushed the beginning of his tears away.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

Sherlock took a deep breath as Greg stepped back, going to the sofa and gesturing to Sherlock to sit next to him. He smiled encouragingly and Sherlock couldn't do anything else except smile back. He felt silly and light and he wanted to lean forward and feel Greg's lips on his. It was a dangerous thought and he mentally berated himself for thinking it.

 

_Remember what I told you, brother mine._

 

Greg patted the spot next to him and Sherlock sat down, suddenly nervous and unsure. He couldn't tell Greg how he felt about him, but he could tell him something. He looked over, seeing the open expression, the beautiful eyes that made Sherlock melt like ice.

 

“I. It's been a long time since I played for anyone. Seeing your reaction to it, it means a lot. Th-thank you. You have no idea what you've done for me.”

 

Sherlock stopped, suddenly to self conscious to continue and he startled when Greg wrapped him into a hug. He relax almost instantly, letting his body lean against Greg's strong frame, warming up as Greg gently stroked his back. He was wrapped up in Greg's scent, freshly out of bed and Sherlock's stomach flipped. When Greg broke off Sherlock leaned forward a little, not wanted to lose this feeling of care. He noticed Greg's big smile and he blushed again.

 

“Sherlock. You have no idea what you have done for me. I love having you around. You are an amazing person to know and I'm so glad I got the chance.”

 

Sherlock looked down, nervous to say the next thing but he had to. He couldn't stay here forever, Greg had done more then enough already. It wasn't fair staying here.

 

“About that. I- I think it's time I start looking for a new place. You've been so good to me and I appreciate it more then you know but I can't stay here forever.”

 

Sherlock looked up, seeing the confusion and hurt in Greg's eyes and he felt awful. He loved being here, he felt at home here, accepted and cared for but he also knew if he stayed things would get complicated and messy.

 

“I need to find a place for my own. I have some money saved up that my brother will give me. Don't- don't be mad, please.” Sherlock whispered as Greg looked at him, still confused and upset. He wanted to take it back, wrap himself around Greg and stay there but he had to man up, had to go on.

 

“Sherlock, I? Where is this coming from? Did I do something wrong?” Greg reached out, taking his hand, concern in his eyes. Sherlock shook his head, twisting his hand around so he could give a small squeeze.

 

“No! It's nothing like that I swear but I've been here long enough. I owe you so much.”

 

“Stop it! You don't own me anything Sherlock, I told you before. You don't need to leave, there is enough room for both of us. Why does this have to happen so suddenly?” Greg's voice sounded strange as he stared at Sherlock. “Where will you go?” Now it sounded pleading and broken and Sherlock felt like a bastard. They'd had such a lovely moment together only minutes ago, now Sherlock felt cold all over.

 

“I don't know yet, I need to look at my options.”

 

“Do you have a job?”

 

Sherlock shook his head no, embarrassment full force as he admitted that failure. It wasn't that he didn't want to work. He just couldn't find something that kept him interested for long, and he wasn't the best at taking orders. Not to mention he'd got kicked out off his last job cause he'd been high as a kite one morning, insulting staff and costumers.

 

“Sherlock, if you want to move out you can. I mean, you don't have to but if you want to I'll help you. But please, don't go and take the first place you find. Promise me you'll give it some time, find a job, see some flats, look around.”

 

Greg's hand cupped Sherlock's cheek and the urge to close his eyes and press against it was overwhelming.

 

“Promise me you'll stay for as long as you need, searching for a job and a flat takes time and I don't mind having you around. I promise! You're sure I didn't do anything wrong? You can tell me Sherlock, if I'm crossing boundaries here you need to tell me.”

 

Greg looked at him with pleading eyes and Sherlock promised that yes, he was going to stay for as long as it took to get a job and find a flat and no, it wasn't anything Greg had said or done.

 

“I mean it Greg, this has nothing to do with you. It's about me, I need to start looking out for myself, I can't keep depending on others. Do you understand?”

 

Greg wanted to say no, wanted to tell Sherlock he didn't mind looking out for him but he nodded instead and Sherlock gave a small smile. Greg's heart already ached for the moment Sherlock would move out and leave his life. But he was determined to help him in any way he could. If nothing else ever happened between them at least he had made a friend for live, of that he was sure.

 

They had breakfast, chatting about this and that before Greg had to go to work and Sherlock went to get his laptop, another item left in the suitcase, to start the search for a job and a new life.

 


	10. Greg has an idea to help Sherlock's future plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg is wonderful isn't he. :)

Greg soon learned that finding a job for someone as rare as Sherlock Holmes wasn't easy.

 

The idea of finding a flat seemed like an unrealistic dream 2 months in. There was almost nothing out there that was good enough for Sherlock and his skills. Being smart wasn't always a good thing. Sherlock searched and applied to many offerings, even for jobs that weren't really his thing but they all turned him down.

 

Some because he was too qualified, others because he wasn't. But most cut him lose after they learned about his past. Greg didn't know the details and he never asked but Sherlock made it clear that he'd done some stupid and illegal things while he was younger, using drugs was only one of them. Greg didn't understand it really. The things Sherlock talked about where from ages ago and surly people saw that it was all in the past now. People made mistakes, it was only human after all.

 

Every time Sherlock got an email saying there were going with someone else he shrank a little bit more and Greg hated seeing him like this. Every rejection made Sherlock lose courage, made him question himself and his abilities and Greg wanted to help so badly.

 

They sat together to look over his resume, writing the best possible letters, practicing what Sherlock could and couldn't say in a job interview. He had a way of being too honest and of course being Sherlock he immediately saw what people were really like. Proclaiming a future employer was in fact an abusive bastard that drank on the job wasn't the best strategy and time moved on.

 

It's late at night when Greg comes home, exhausted after a day chasing suspects and seeing the vileness of the human race. Sherlock is again with his head in a book reading about the history of death by hanging and Greg smiles fondly. Sherlock has the weirdest interests and Greg happily gets him books on all the subjects he likes. He's very grateful he did keep his library card after all and by now Sherlock must have read the whole building.

 

“Hey Sherlock, interesting stuff going on?” Greg's voice is soft and still Sherlock jumps, so lost in his reading he forgets about the world around him. It's actually quite adorable and Greg chuckles as Sherlock scowls at him.

 

“You scared me Greg, I didn't hear you come in!”

 

Greg's smile gets even bigger and Sherlock pouts his mouth, closing the book and getting up.

 

“Do you want something to eat? You look tired.”

 

Greg nods his head as Sherlock walks to the kitchen to heat some leftovers up. It's nice to come home and being taking care of. It's something Greg is getting use to very quickly and his heart tightens when he thinks about Sherlock leaving, finding his own place and leaving Greg alone in his big, empty flat.

 

“Greg? You all right?”

 

He startles out of his thoughts as Sherlock comes closer, a warm plate of food in hand and a soda in the other, a light frown on his face as he hands them over to Greg, sitting down at the kitchen table.

 

“I'm fine Sherlock, just thinking about how nice it is to have you here, that's all. Hmn, I'm starving.” Greg begins eaten as Sherlock watches him, playing with his own food.

 

“Greg, I.”

 

“It's fine Sherlock, I know it won't last forever but there's nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasts, right?”

 

Greg gives a tight smile and continues eating. To be honest, he doesn't want Sherlock to move out, he likes having him around and it makes him eager to get home, knowing somebody is waiting, somebody is there to talk to, to sit with and watch a movie. He hasn't discussed it yet but even if Sherlock finds a job he will offer the man to stay, share rent and groceries. Be flatmates who put in an equal amount of work and effort.

 

He finished the last of his food, already feeling better now that his belly is full and he watches Sherlock through his lashes. He looks better then ever before, gaining some weight, a nice blush on his face and his eyes sparkle with intelligence and kindness.

 

“I've been thinking,” Greg starts and Sherlock looks up, eyebrows raised. “Maybe I could talk to the Chief, do a good word for you?”

 

Greg sees the crease in Sherlock's forehead, placing the fork down as he looks at Greg, question in his eyes.

 

“It's just that you love all things crime related. You've been going through my books in record speed and I think you could be helpful to us.”

 

Sherlock's crease is still there and Greg feels his heart rate go up as he looks at the man. He's been thinking about this for a while, seeing the keen interest in Sherlock's eyes whenever Greg's talks about work, the way he almost obsessively reads books and articles about crime and criminals. More then once something Sherlock mentioned stuck in Greg's mind and helped move a case forward. The first time it happened Greg had just brushed it off as long but by the 5th time he knew Sherlock was special. He couldn't just bring him onto crime scenes or hand him cases, he needed to be approved by someone in charge and Greg had hope, a little but hope non the less, that the Chief would listen to him.

 

“The Chief is a very bright man Sherlock, he would take the time to listen to me, to meet you and sit you down. If he sees the same thing as me he'll give you a chance. I don't know about pay, we'd have to discuss it when we get there, but I think it would be something you find interesting Sherlock. What- what do you think?”

 

Greg was hit with a wave of doubt as Sherlock just kept looking at him, crease still in place. It took courage, sitting there and not fidgeting as Sherlock looked at him, clearly reading his mind and seeing the very darkest parts of his soul. Lesser man would have crumbled by now.

 

“Sherlock?”

 

“And what do you see in me Greg?”

 

It wasn't the response Greg was hoping for and for a second he couldn't think. What did he see in Sherlock. Nothing much, just his whole future and happiness. He swallowed, trying to stop the blush from forming. Speaking his thoughts out loud would be a stupid thing to do, he was sure of it. He didn't know what Sherlock felt for him and to be honest, Sherlock felt way out of his league. He looked over to Sherlock,curiosity in his eyes.

 

“I see a great man Sherlock, a great man that can do a lot of good, if he gets the chance. I want to help you reach the best possible path for yourself. So what do you think? Want me to go talk to the Chief? I can't promise anything mind you.”

 

Greg watched Sherlock closely and he was sure he saw a twitch near Sherlock's eye, a wave of disappointment going through his bright blue eyes. Then Sherlock blinked and it was gone, a little smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

 

“Sure, why not. I do admit I am fascinated by your work. Thank you for the offer. You finished?”

 

Sherlock gestured to his plate, standing up taking his own, emptying it in the trash. Greg nodded his head and Sherlock cleaned up, telling Greg to go have a shower and rest while he took care of the rest. Greg clasped his shoulder, a wave of gratitude washing over him as Sherlock looked up, a soft expression on his face.

 

_God, I love you._ Greg wanted to scream it out, whisper it in Sherlock's ear but instead he just turned away, going to the bathroom to have his well earned shower. Tomorrow he would have a talk with the Chief, see if there was an opportunity for Sherlock in there somewhere.

 

 


	11. The Chief and Sherlock talk.

Sherlock liked the Chief instantly. Which came as a surprise to him cause he had more then one problem with people in charge. But the Chief was one ball of energy that Sherlock liked, he sat him down after giving him a hand shake, asking if he wanted something to drink and got straight down to business.

“I have to say Mister Holmes, when DI Lestrade talked about you I was sceptical to say the least. We don't have that many civilians working for us, freelance or otherwise. But he did make me curious about you, vouched for you actually. He was very serious about the two of us meeting.”

 

Sherlock saw the sparkle in the Chief's eyes, the hint of curiosity and Sherlock took a deep breath, all or nothing.

 

“You want to believe people are all good deep down. That they care about each other, that human kind is not doomed. On bad days, specially dealing with cases with children or young adults, you think about resigning. Something your wife would want you to do sooner rather then later but the truth is you would miss it too much. The excitement, meeting people from different social classes, feeling respected and important among your peers but you aren't arrogant or cocky. Your peers respect you, they trust you. You give everyone a fair chance but don't take it lightly when people betray your trust. You don't speak to your brother cause he's had enough chances to better his life but doesn't take it, you love your children but wished you could see them more. You agreed to a meeting with me cause Greg made you curious enough and you wanted to meet me for yourself. You also know about my past with drugs and it made you think of your brother. IF you can't help him maybe you can help another ex junkie instead.”

 

Sherlock held his breath as the Chief's eyes got huge with disbelief. Sherlock saw the throbbing of a vein near his right eye but other then that the Chief seemed calm, looking Sherlock over with renewed curiosity and something close to respect.

 

“That was amazing Mister Holmes. Truly brilliant! I can see your skills will be very useful in the future. How did you know?”

 

Sherlock gave a tiny smile, explaining how the photo's on the Chief desk and wall told him all he needed to know, the letter half hidden in a stack of papers with the logo of a well known rehab facility, the name Jack in every 2 lines, the way the Chief's eyes landed on it unconsciously, his mouth tightening just a little.

 

“It's obvious you were reading it when I entered the room, quickly hiding it out of sight. All the rest was just logical.”

 

Sherlock sat back, crossing one leg over the other while the Chief still looked at him with an open mouth. It had been a long time since someone had looked like that, with awe and respect and not disgust. The Chief was the first one after Greg who didn't get mad or started screaming at him to get out.

 

“You really are the genius DI Lestrade says you are. Okay Mister Holmes, this is my proposition. I'll let you consult on cold cases for the first 3 weeks. See how it goes, you report to DI Lestrade, who in turn reports back to me. If everything goes well and DI Lestrade is pleased with your work we can assign you to actual cases, also on a trial period of 3 weeks. We'll talk pay after that. How does that sound?”

 

Sherlock couldn't keep the surprise of his face and the Chief huffed out a laugh.

 

“I'm willing to give you a chance Mister Holmes. DI Lestrade speaks highly of you and his insight into character has not been wrong yet. Don't let us down.”

 

Sherlock nodded, shaking the Chief's hand as he got up, the beginning of a smile on his face.

 

“Thank you Chief. I. Thank you.”

 

“You start first thing tomorrow, report here at 8 AM sharp. Good day Mister Holmes.”

 

Sherlock nodded, walking to the door before turning around again, clearing his throat. The Chief looked up from his desk, a question on his face.

“Sherlock. Please call me Sherlock. And don't give up on your brother just yet Chief. He's not a lost cause.”

 

The Chief gave a sad smile, waiving for Sherlock to get out and Sherlock went. He couldn't believe his luck, working on cases, using his mind! Granted, they were cold cases to start but you never knew what could happen. He felt excited, ready to burst and he had to find Greg to tell him this great news. It was a big step forward and Sherlock finally had a glimmer of hope again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Chief is a smart and wonderful man in my mind. 
> 
> ( And I am also not good at deductions so forgive me.)


	12. Sherlock tells Greg the good news and Greg wants to celebrate.

“Greg!”

 

Greg looked up, a smile on his face as he saw Sherlock burst through the door, a big smile on his face. Sherlock's eyes were sparkling, a blush on his cheeks and Greg knew everything had gone well. He didn't have a single doubt that it would. The Chief had been interested from the start, asking a million questions, listening to Greg, asking some more questions and after an hour Greg had been giving permission to bring Sherlock to the station for a meeting.

 

He was relieved his plan had payed off, he'd never seen Sherlock so happy and buzzing with energy as he did now. People at the Yard were looking at him with amusement as Sherlock bumped into a desk and then a chair before finally reaching Greg's office. For a second Greg was sure Sherlock would jump him and kill him in a hug but he stopped just in time, looking at Greg with so much joy and happiness Greg felt his stomach do a flip.

 

“I take it the meeting went well?”

 

Greg gestured to Sherlock to go inside, seeing the looks on people's faces. There would be question asked Greg was sure. He saw Sergeant Donovan from the corner of his eyes and his heart stopped for a second. He wasn't sure how she would react to the new member of their team. Things were always a bit strained, ever since Greg had shot down her attempts to get more personal. He just wasn't looking for the drama and it would be worse if they did have a thing and things turned bad.

 

He closed the door, glad for once to not have windows and mentally made a note to talk to Sally when Sherlock went home. Maybe smoothing some rough edges would help move things along.

 

“He gave me a 3 week trial period to work on cold cases Greg! He said I could be useful and that we would talk in the future about letting me assist on real cases.”

 

“Real cases?”

 

Greg couldn't hide his smile as Sherlock rolled his eyes, sitting down in Greg's chair. Greg shot Sherlock a look and Sherlock moved with a sigh, a kind expression on his face.

 

“You know what I mean Greg. Not cold cases! And I get to report to you. I start tomorrow at 8 AM! We can come to work together. That's- that's not a problem right?”

 

Sherlock's expression got worried and Greg reached out his hand, grabbing Sherlock's.

 

“Of course not Sherlock. I'll be happy to bring you to work. I don't know about getting back home, my days can be long but you can get the tube or something.”

 

Sherlock's smile made the room light up and Greg felt his heart expand. Working with Sherlock could be harder then he had first thought. The man looked beautiful, eyes alive and hopeful as he watched Greg from his chair. Greg swallowed, averting his eyes and he missed the look on Sherlock's face.

 

“Okay, I'd better get home now. You-you have work to do I'm sure.” Sherlock got up, almost kicking the chair over in his haste and Greg bit his lip not to chuckle. For all his elegance Sherlock could be clumsy at times, it was adorable. Greg cleared his throat before smiling up, Sherlock ready to go home, buttoning up his jacket.

 

“We should buy you a new one. That can't be warm enough.”

 

He saw Sherlock's cheeks turn red and cursed himself mentally. Every since Sherlock had talked about finding a job he had trouble accepting anything from Greg. It broke Greg's heart, seeing the distress in Sherlock's eyes whenever money came up.

 

“Sherlock, please let me buy you a new coat. If you get to do real cases you'll walk around London for most of the day. I don't want you to be cold or get sick. See it as a present to celebrate this good news. Okay?”

 

Sherlock sighed but nodded and Greg felt his heart unclenched slightly. He didn't mind spending money on Sherlock, he wanted to give him everything he wanted and more and it was just him, he didn't have kids or a wife to worry about, the rent was never a problem and Greg earned enough to buy his friend/flatmate a gift now and then. And it wasn't a silly one, Sherlock's coat really was too thin for the harsh winter ahead.

 

“I'll see you at home Sherlock. We could go shopping this weekend, I have a few days off.”

 

Sherlock gave Greg an eyeroll but nodded again and Greg waved him away before he said something silly like 'I love you, I'll give you anything you need'.

 

Greg sighed and rubbed his face. Some day soon he'd have to sort out his feelings, it was getting harder and harder not to act on them and he didn't want to lose Sherlock because of a stupid move. But that had to wait for later, right now he needed to find Sergeant Sally Donovan and let her in about Sherlock. For some reason Greg had a feeling his day would get much worse.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it was my birthday this week I decided to give you two chapters to celebrate. Hope you don't mind. 
> 
> Next week is a new update!


	13. A tough case comes in and the day gets worse.

Greg's day did get worse but not because of Sally. In fact, Sally didn't mind at all that Sherlock would join their team. Greg hadn't been able to keep the disbelief of his face and she'd huffed, crossing her arms in defence.

 

“It's good to have a fresh pair of eyes Lestrade. Some of those cases have been rotting away for decades. If he even solves just one of them, finds answers and brings closure to one family, it will be worth it. And you trust him so he can't be a bad person.”

 

Greg had blinked, staring at her like a fool till she rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in the air as she walked away, mumbling till she reached her desk.

 

So no, the day didn't go to shit because of Sally, it was because of a new case. Greg had seen a lot of awful things in his job, it was just the nature of the beast. You couldn't avoid murder, crimes of passion, abuse, rape, domestic violence. When the victims were kids it got even worse. No child should have to suffer but Greg was old enough to know that a lot of them did suffer.

 

It got horrifying when the victim and the criminal were both children and that's what happened after Sherlock had left and Greg had finished talking to Sally. The call came in around noon, the body of a young child had been found on a rarely used piece of railway. It had been badly damaged, cut in half by a freight train. The driver of the train was taking to the hospital in shock.

 

The day hadn't gotten better from then on. Preliminary examination showed the body had already been severely damaged before being run over by the train and it was fairly certain this was a cover up for a murder. Going to the crimescene had been brutal and every time Greg closed his eyes, however briefly, he saw the disfigured body.

 

It had effect on every one of the crew and the starting drizzle didn't help either. Forensics had to work fast to collect all the evidence their was to find and by the time that was done Greg was soaked through and miserable.

 

Finding out who the kid was would take some time, seeing as his teeth had been completely destroyed, every bone in his body broken and his face unrecognisable. So Greg told his team to go home, get some sleep and they'd start fresh tomorrow. He stayed behind a while, sitting at his desk in an empty building, going over some papers to try and clear his mind from these depression thoughts. He didn't want to dump all his negativity and sadness on Sherlock when he got home. Sherlock had been so excited, so happy to finally catch a break. It seemed cruel to bring it all down now because of work.

 

Greg startled as his phone lighted up, the sound harsh and intruding in the quite of the Yard. His heart skipped a beat and his face lightened up as he saw Sherlock's name above a new text.

 

**When are you coming home? I was thinking of ordering dinner so it gets here by the time you arrive. SH**

 

Greg's smile got even wider as he read the text. He bundled up his papers, putting them in the correct files and got up, sending a text to let Sherlock know he was leaving right now. The hard edges of the day were already smoothing away, the realisation that a wonderful, kind, intelligent man was waiting for him to come home filled Greg with happiness and a greedy need to see this man and wrap him in his arms till he felt ready to face the world again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't Sherlock the sweetest? And because this is a short chapter I'm giving you one more BUT be aware... the happy times are changing a little by chapter 14.


	14. Chapter 14:The case is solved and Greg doesn't think before acting.

The three weeks flew by and Sherlock solved a bunch of cold cases, winning him high praise from the Chief and the approval of his team, most of the lot anyway. Sally instantly took a liking to Sherlock, answering his million of questions about the cases they were working on, the big profile cases they had worked on and the ones they wanted to work on but didn't get.

 

Greg saw Sherlock's wall break down every day as he spend more time with Sally and his team. They went over all the facts again, listening to Sherlock as he made a suggestion, asked a question, pointed something out. At first not everyone took it seriously, Phil Anderson in particular didn't stand for Sherlock's observations and deduction. Brushing them off as far fetched or impossible as he stormed out of the office, face flush with anger.

 

Greg saw the effect it had on Sherlock and it broke his heart seeing the walls building up again, his heart and soul hardening just a fraction after a discussion with Anderson. Sally saw it too and reached out. Tentatively at first, if Greg didn't know any better he'd say Sally was a little scared of Sherlock in the beginning. She approached him like a big cat, in awe but also aware how big and scary the cat could be.

 

By some miracle, Greg still didn't know how and both of them didn't tell, they got along splendidly. Greg saw the respect and friendship in Sally's eyes as she listened to Sherlock, most of the time talking about cases, sometimes about more personal things.

 

Greg admitted to himself he felt a stab of jealousy as he saw how good his Sergeant and his friend/flatmate/love of his life got along but it ebbed away just as fast whenever Sherlock felt him looking and he turned, flashing Greg one of his secret smiles.

 

Greg hadn't noticed before but Sherlock had a bunch of smiles and most of them were for him. So any jealous tendencies he might have didn't last long enough to act foolishly, like drag Sherlock back home and into his bed.

 

After another 3 weeks of helping Greg and his team Sherlock was allowed to consult on a freelance bases, getting paid for every case they brought him into. It wasn't much and Greg was appalled by just how little Sherlock got per case but Sherlock shook his head fondly, shrugging a shoulder.

 

“It's a start Greg. It's enough to help pay for groceries and save some aside. No need to get all hot and bothered about it.”

 

Hearing Sherlock say the word hot did strange things to Greg's body and he was glad they weren't alone.

 

Three months after his team had been called in about the murdered child they got an ID. Jackson Lokus, 4 years old had last been seen by his mother Jade Turner at the shopping arcade, a few miles from their home. They went to talk to the mother, checked out the arcade and found the video camera's. Luck was on their side as they two of them actually worked.

 

They soon found Jackson, being surrounded by two boys, no older then 11, walking away and out of sight. Greg and his team were stumped and Greg felt his stomach turn as he ran over all the facts in his head.

 

“It can't be. They're kids. It must be something else, something we missed.” He couldn't keep the plea out of his voice as he looked at Sherlock who looked at the footage on Greg's request. Or more accurately, demand. Greg wanted to be sure, absolutely sure that no one else had been near Jackson before he started a search for two young boys, possibly murders.

 

“Being young doesn't automatically mean good Lestrade.”

 

Sherlock's voice was distant and cold as he looked at the video, a concentrated frown between his eyes.

 

“I know kids can be mean Sherlock. But this, this is unreal. It can't be possible.”

 

But it turned out it was possible and within the week they had arrested Aaron Robinson and Matthew Bell, two 10 year old boys who went to the same school as Jackson. The report from the coroner was sickening and Greg couldn't believe it at first, he read it over at least 3 times, frequently stopping to clear his throat and close his eyes. The boys had used bricks and sticks to beat and torture Jackson, breaking almost every bone in his body before killing him by dropping a 22lbs piece of steel railway track on his head.

 

Sally's face turned a sickening shade of green and she ran to the toilets just making it before throwing up her lunch. Greg didn't feel any better and even Anderson was quite, his eyes big with shock and disbelief.

 

They found enough evidence to prove these two boys did indeed kill Jackson and Greg had never felt so dirty and disgusted in his whole police career.

 

“I don't. I don't get it Sherlock. They are so- so young, just children. Why would they ever? Who, who does that? I. I.”

 

Greg broke down that night, sobbing in Sherlock's arms as Sherlock stroked his hair, rubbing his back as Greg cried his soul out. Greg was exhausted after that, too tired to even think about eating and he let Sherlock take him to bed. His eyes were half open as Sherlock pushed him inside his own bed room, turning on the lights before placing Greg on his bed.

 

He felt dizzy and light headed and Sherlock helped him take of his work clothes, his hands trembling slightly as he opened up the buttons of Greg's shirt. Sherlock's hands resting on Greg's naked chest for a minute and Greg grabbed Sherlock's wrists, keeping them in place as he blinked, trying to force himself to wake up more.

 

“Greg.”

 

Greg leaned forward, brushing his lips against Sherlock's and let out a content sigh as he felt the softness of them, his tongue came out, tracing Sherlock's upper lip and he heard Sherlock suck in a breath.

 

“Greg don't.”

 

Greg couldn't keep the disappointed moan inside as Sherlock pushed against his chest, creating space. He licked his lips, tasting Sherlock's and suddenly he was laying down on his bed, his shoes and socks being removed.

 

“Sleep Greg, I'll see you in the morning.”

 

Greg rolled onto his side, the world beginning to blur. He let out a muffled noise and he could swear he felt the faintest press of lips on his head before the room turned dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you right?
> 
> Poor Greg :(


	15. The morning after, Greg's point of view.

Greg woke up ridiculously late, it was close to 10 AM and he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in so late. He felt rested and good but there was something nagging him at the back of his mind. Something important that had happened last night. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the light falling in through the curtains. He didn't even remember getting here and taking of his clothes. He had been so tired, the case really weighing down on him.

 

Then he remembered Sherlock, soothing him as he cried his heart out. His heart now skipped a beat as he had flashes of last night,going to bed, Sherlock's trembling hands, naked skin, Sherlock's lips.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Greg sat up, his stomach churning as he remembered what had happened last night.

 

“No, no, no, no,no! Damnit!”

 

He got up, pacing around as the memories kept coming, making it hard to breath. Sherlock helping him to his room, Sherlock undressing him, Sherlock's hands on his chest, Sherlock so close that he could kiss him, Sherlock pushing him away.

 

“ _Greg don't.”_

 

He nearly fell down to the ground as he heard Sherlock's voice in his head, the pressure of Sherlock's hands on his chest. Pushing him away, trying to escape. He felt sick and stumbled to the bathroom, head above the toilet as his stomach contracted, trying to get rid of food he hadn't eaten.

 

This could not be happening. He was just as bad as that arsehole at the club, pushing himself towards Sherlock, invading his privacy, using a very bad and emotional situation for his own gain. Dammit! Why didn't he stop himself, why hadn't he stopped and thought it over.

 

He sighed, slowly getting up and going to sit on the bed again, head in his hands. Sherlock's hands on his chest had felt so good. Greg could still feel them, his body burned where Sherlock's hands had touched his skin. It had felt wonderful, perfect and he'd just reacted. Having Sherlock so close, the look in his eyes before they kissed, the feeling of Sherlock's soft lips against his own had set him on fire and he just needed to taste him, he hadn't been able to resist. The sound Sherlock made when Greg's tongue touched his lips.

 

“God damnit!”

 

Greg cursed out loud, running a hand through his hair before getting up again and pacing. It shouldn't have happened, he'd taken advantage of Sherlock in the one way he told the man he never would.

 

“ _Greg don't.”_

 

He groaned in agony, disgusted with himself. Even now his body felt warmer when he thought about the kiss and he hated it. What if this was the reason he lost Sherlock forever. Why wouldn't he? He had every right to after what Greg had done. He needed to talk to him, to apologise if nothing else. If Sherlock wanted to leave then Greg wouldn't stop him, not this time. He didn't have any right. He'd acted horribly and the thought of losing all that trust, that kindness they had build over the last months made Greg want to throw up again.

 

He stopped pacing, grabbing a t shirt and going to the bathroom to clean up a bit. He needed to find Sherlock and try to talk this out. Needed to know if all was lost, if one moment of stupidness would ruin his whole life and possible future.

He cleaned up, finding the courage to go out of his room and made his way to the living room. He felt a prickling at the bed of his neck, the flat was too quite, too empty. He called out, walking to the kitchen, down the hall to stop in front of Sherlock's room. Since Sherlock lived here he'd only been in once or twice. Standing in front of Sherlock's door now felt uneasy, like he shouldn't be there. He took a deep breath, letting it out while he knocked on the door three times, too hard, too insistent.

 

His heart sank when no reply came and his hand shook when he reached for the knob, opening the door just a little. The bed seemed slept in but the sheets were all rumbled, like Sherlock had been tossing and turning all night. Everything else seems the same, his things were still there so Greg was sure Sherlock hadn't left for good.

 

He went back to his bedroom, taking his phone with trembling hands. It took three tries to unlock it and 2 to compile a message. He didn't want to seem desperate but he wanted to know if Sherlock was okay.

 

**Can we talk? I think we need to talk about what happened last night.**

 

He wanted to type out so much more like I'm sorry, I'm an idiot, please don't leave. I love you. But he hit send before he could act like an idiot again. There was enough damage done already.

 

The reply came in 15 minutes later and Greg nearly jumped through the roof, his nerves were fried, anxious to hear from Sherlock, worried that he would never hear from him again. His heart slowed down just a fraction when he read the message.

 

**I'll be back in 30 minutes. SH**

 

It was short and to the point but at least Sherlock hadn't said no. Greg went to the kitchen, preparing a light breakfast and making some coffee, his body on fire as he waited for Sherlock to arrive. 30 minutes had never seemed so long and endless.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Greg...


	16. Sherlock freaks out and Sally is a great friend.

Sherlock closed the door of Greg's bedroom, shaking slightly. His lips felt on fire, his knees weak as he forced himself to walk to his bedroom. He closed the door, almost tripping as he made his way to the bed, heart beating so fast, so hard Sherlock was sure everyone could hear.

 

He touched his lips, remembering the way Greg's lips had felt, the wetness of Greg's tongue as it traced his upperlip. His stomach did a flip, his dick gave a twitch and he sighed in frustration and agony. He wanted to go back in there, wanted to undress Greg, lay next to him, feel every inch of skin of that hard, warm body.

 

When he closed his eyes he could see every single hair on Greg's chest, the pink, delicate nipples poking through. How he wanted to lick them! His face flamed up as he heard Greg's moan, the sigh he let out as their lips touched. He'd wanted to give in, push Greg down, devour his mouth, his neck, his body. He wanted him so bad it hurt his body thinking about the moment he pushed Greg away. The disappointment in Greg's eyes, his whole face as Sherlock got up.

 

He dropped down on the bed, tears ready to fall. This was a mess. He wanted Greg so bad, had wanted him for a while now. It was the reason that he needed to move out, every day it was getting harder to be sane, to keep his body and mind under control. All those little moments between them, the soft touches and the kind words. The praise spoken out loud without hesitation, that look in Greg's eyes sometimes.

 

Sherlock wasn't stupid, he knew what it meant, what it could mean and it terrified him. It terrified him cause Greg was a good man. Kind, compassionate, funny and smart enough to never be boring. Greg who went out of his way to keep Sherlock happy, to buy his favourite foods, to help him look for a job and a flat even though they both knew Greg didn't want Sherlock to go.

 

He sat up again, too agitate, too wired to keep still and started pacing the floor.

 

Greg was perfect and way out of his league. Sherlock didn't stand a chance with him. He reminded himself of it every time there was a moment, that sliver of tension, that possibility of more. And tonight Greg had kissed him!

 

Greg had kissed him and it had felt right and perfect and when Greg's tongue touched Sherlock's lips he'd felt ready to die. He'd been ready to give in, to surrender and let Greg lead them. Greg would be the perfect partner, attentive, knowing what Sherlock liked, he'd been a sobbing, begging mess in seconds. Sherlock had known that and it had terrified him.

 

He didn't deserve something so precious and pure as Greg Lestrade. He was like the sun, something to worship and cherish and Sherlock was darkness and sorrow. He was a junkie, clean for now but always a junkie and Greg deserved so much more. Someone who was good and kind, who had a job, had skills beyond spilling everybody's secrets and a fascination for crime.

 

He couldn't stay here, suddenly the room felt too small and he went out, grabbing his coat and going down. The night air did him good, clearing his mind a fraction as he started walking.

 

He knew the case had been the reason Greg had kissed him. It had been hard, time consuming and crushing for the spirit. Sherlock had seen the effect it had on him, finding out the criminals were just children, getting them to the station, the talks with the parents, the facts about the circumstances.

 

It had broken Greg down and Sherlock was the one closest to find comfort in. It didn't mean anything, Greg had been devastated, broken and lost and he'd reached out to the only available option. It didn't make Sherlock special, it didn't mean Greg wanted him, it didn't mean Greg loved him.

 

Sherlock kept walking around all night, his feet getting him from one side of town to the other, the air and silence is only company.

 

For a moment Sherlock had believed it,when Greg kissed him he'd wanted to belief it meant more then just stress relief, convenience. He wanted to believe Greg wanted him just as much, had dreamed about him just like Sherlock had dreamed about Greg. And for that moment it had been real and perfect and everything Sherlock ever wanted.

 

Then his brain, his stupid, always working and analysing,brain had kicked in and he'd known it was a dream. Too good to be true. So he'd pushed Greg back, even though he wanted to wrap himself around the man and be kissed senseless.

 

Now he was walking around without a purpose, his body feeling the chill in the air but Sherlock just kept walking, hands in his pockets as he walked further away. He knew Greg was back in their, no, Greg's flat, snug and safe, a warm solid body, perfect to cuddle up to, to fall asleep with. To explore and discover in the morning light, searching for all the ways to make Greg go mad with desire,with lust for him.

 

Suddenly his feet stopped, realising it was already morning, light just coming up to wake the world and Sherlock stood before the Yard. There was light on, people already waking up and down and without thinking too much about it he went inside.

 

His body shivered as the warm air hit him,waking around for most of the night had made him chilled to the bone, only now realising as he walked further inside, going to right floor.

 

He found Sally at her desk, looking fresh and awake and she had a frown on her face as he got closer. A frown that turned to worry as she looked him over.

 

“Do you have any cases I can work on?”

 

She shot him a look, her eyes going up and down his body before standing up, guiding him to a room and placing him on a chair.

 

“I'll be right back.”

 

Sherlock just sat, his eyes unfocused, his mind still racing. He needed some distraction, needed something to do that would be useful instead of acting like a bloody teenager. He jumped at the sound of the door closing and turned round.

 

“Those aren't case files.”

 

“No, they aren't. Very good deduction, Holmes.”

 

Sally gave a smile as Sherlock rolled his eyes. She placed a cup of coffee and a bag of sandwiches in front of him, gesturing to him to take it. Sherlock frowned but Sally held her ground, crossing her arms as she waited.

 

“Fine.”

 

Sherlock mumbled, grabbing the coffee and taking a sip. He barely contained the moan as the hot liquid entered his mouth and warmed up his body. Sally handed him a sandwich and he devoured it, suddenly hungry. He took another and eat that too without complaint.

 

“So. Want to tell me what's really going on?”

 

Sherlock looked at Sally in shock and she just gave that look again.

 

“I. Something happened and I don't know. I don't know how to fix it.”

 

Sherlock took the last sip of his coffee, looking at Sally who sat back in her chair, an open expression on her face.

 

“Something between you and Greg?”

 

Sherlock nodded and Sally sighed, placing her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment.

 

“Have you talked to him?”

 

Sherlock swallowed down the lump in his throat and shook his head. The idea of seeing Greg again, after what had happened, made him feel nervous and anxious.

“Sherlock. Whatever happened between you two, you need to talk to him. Greg is a good man Sherlock, he'll want to hear what you have to say.”

 

Sally took a sandwich, taking a bite so Sherlock had some time to think about his answer. Could he trust Sally with all this?

 

“You don't have to tell me Sherlock. But I do want to help you.”

 

Sherlock searched her face for a few seconds, trying to detect anything off, anything to make Sherlock not trust her but he didn't find it. Sally looked him right in the eyes, her thoughts and feelings clear for him to see and analyse and Sherlock sighed, hands going through his hair.

 

“Greg kissed me last night. He was heartbroken by the case and needed. I don't know, something, and he kissed me.”

 

Sherlock looked down, heat rising as he waited for Sally to answer. He wasn't good at this, discussing feelings and emotions. It got better with him and Greg cause he trusted Greg with his life but this was different. Sally was just a friend, a new one at that and he didn't even know how she felt about gay people. Would she mock him? Walk away in disgust?

 

He felt panic rise as he thought about the other options. What if Sally told everyone in the Yard. Would Greg's job be on the line? Had he just ruined Greg's chances?

 

“Sherlock stop it. Take a breath. It's all fine.”

 

Sally placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, the pressure making him relax and look up at her. She had a soft and kind smile on her face and Sherlock wanted to cry with relief.

 

“So what is the problem Sherlock? You didn't want to be kissed? You aren't into him in that way?”

 

Sherlock shook his head before Sally finished her question and her smile got bigger. Sherlock blushed some more, fidgeting with his hands. How would he explain this? He didn't understand it all himself. Greg's kiss had been a surprise, something Sherlock never thought was possible but now here he was. He wanted it to be real, wanted to kiss Greg again but what if Greg decided it was all a mistake, a weak moment caused by stress and sadness.

 

“So you wanted to be kissed. You got kissd but you freaked out anyway?”

 

Sherlock huffed in frustration, rolling his eyes and Sally let out a laugh.

 

“Sorry, sorry. It's just. I don't see the problem here Sherlock. Greg wouldn't kiss you if he didn't want to.”

 

“But.”

 

“No, let me finish. He wouldn't kiss the first person that is close to him just because he had a bad day, or a bad week. He wouldn't kiss you just to stop the loneliness Sherlock. He's not that type of person. You have to belief me, he kissed you because he wanted to.”

 

Sherlock's eyes got wide as Sally talked. Could it really be that simple?

 

“Maybe his timing was a bit off and maybe he could have said something before it happened but I'm sure, I swear on my life and that of my cat, that he wanted to kiss you.”

 

“On your cat, really?”

 

“Oi, I only do that when I'm really sure. And I'm _sure_ Sherlock. So you need to get out of here and go talk to Greg.”

 

Sally's look was stern as she got up, opening the door and gesturing to Sherlock to follow her. Sherlock came after her reluctantly, still a sliver of doubt in his mind that Sally was wrong. But still, swearing on her cat. It had to mean something.

 

He was just about to ask another question when his phone went off, a text coming in. He felt his heart skip a beat as Sally looked over, an 'I told you so' look on her face as Sherlock took out his phone. His heart skipped another beat as he saw the text came from Greg.

 

**Can we talk? I think we need to talk about what happened last night.**

 

“He wants to talk about last night.” Sherlock couldn't keep the fear out of his voice as he showed the text to Sally. She clapped her hands, a big smile on her face.

 

“See?! I told you. You need to go and talk to the man now Sherlock. Knowing Greg he's probably worried sick that you weren't home.”

 

Sherlock felt a flash of guilt at Sally's words. He hadn't left a note for Greg.

 

“Go on. Off you go! Don't make me drag you out by that awful coat of yours! You really do need a new one.”

 

Sherlock frowned, typing out a reply and looking back at Sally.

 

“Greg mentioned he wanted to get you a new coat. And he's right, this one is dreadful.”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone and gave Sally a hug. He noticed the surprise on her face before she answered the hug. Warm and comforting.

 

“Thank you.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning around and heading out,leaving a flustered and lightly blushing Sally behind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Sally as the good girl.
> 
> Next chapter is next Wednesday!


	17. Sherlock and Greg finally talk.

Thirty minutes later Greg got of the sofa at the sound of the key in the lock. He felt his blood pumping in his ears, the fast beating of his heart and his hands were shaking slightly as he watched the door open, Sherlock stepping inside and closing it softly, his eyes landing on Greg for a second before going down to the ground.

 

Greg felt a pang of relief followed with sadness as he watched Sherlock take of his coat, his hands fidgeting with the buttons before finally hanging it up and turning to face Greg, an worried expression on his face.

 

“Sherlock I.”

 

Sherlock shook his head, going over to Greg and gesturing for him to sit down before sitting down himself, hands resting in his lap.

 

Greg couldn't breath, sitting down with a hole in his heart and a lump in his throat. _This is it._ Greg blinked his eyes against upcoming tears. This was the moment Sherlock would tell him want a prick he really was, how he was moving out, never speaking to Greg again. He felt his world stop, panic raising as Sherlock just sat there, looking at Greg, then his hands, then Greg again. Greg could see the gears turning in Sherlock's head, the careful look in his eyes, trying to find the best words to leave without too much drama.

 

“Greg, I wanted...”

 

“Sherlock stop! Please don't, don't jump around the bush. Just, just tell me that you, that you despise me and don't want to stay. Don't, don't cuddle me. I don't deserve it.”

 

Greg held up his hands, hearing the pleading and broken sound in his voice as he watched Sherlock from across the coffee table. He was already memorising everything about him. His beautiful eyes, the lines near his mouth, the dark curly hair, the sharp cheekbones. He wanted to remember it all, keep it with him forever, something to keep Sherlock close to him.

 

“What I did last night. It was- it was horrible and wrong and I can't be forgiven. I-I should have never- never done that. I'm sorry Sherlock. I know it's too little, too late now but I am truly sorry. I shouldn't have, but you were so close and so soft and I. No, no excuses. I took advantage of you! I hate myself, I'm so sorry. You are- you are.”

 

Greg couldn't say it. Couldn't tell Sherlock he was everything Greg ever wanted, couldn't tell him he wanted to be with him forever, keep him safe, make him happy, grow old with him. Sherlock was too good for him, too special.

 

“I'm sorry Sherlock.” Greg whispered with a broken voice, the tears beginning to form and he closed his eyes, willing them not to fall. Sherlock didn't need this too, his messed up feelings, his undeserved tears.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Greg looked up, seeing a Sherlock who looked confused, his face in a frown.

 

“S-sorry?”

 

“I said what are you talking about?”

 

Sherlock's frown was still there, his eyes sparkling with impatience and frustration and Greg could only stare, his mouth falling open as Sherlock looked at him, crossing his arms.

 

“You thought I came back just to tell you I'm leaving? Why would I do that? And why would I come back at all if I didn't want to see you again?”

 

Sherlock shook his head in disbelief and Greg's eyes got wide as the words reached his brain. He's not leaving. He's not leaving. He's not leaving.

 

“You're not leaving?”

 

Sherlock's eyes locked onto Greg's and Greg felt his face flame up.

 

“No. I'm not leaving. I know you didn't mean it, what happened last night. You were upset and under stress. It's been a hard week for all of us and that moment, it well. I know you didn't mean it Greg, it was only comfort, you didn't take advent...”

 

“You think I kissed you because I wanted comfort?”

 

Now it was Sherlock's face that flamed up as Greg's question lingered in the air. After a moment, that seemed to drag on forever, Sherlock nodded his head once and Greg let out a sound of disbelief and anger.

 

“Sherlock! I didn't- I would never. If I wanted comfort I'd get a dog!”

 

Greg got up and paced the floor, trying to make sense of all this, to understand Sherlock's brain and to see the situation from his eyes.

 

“You are right. It has been a hard week for all of us but last night didn't happen because of the case. I didn't kiss you because I was upset and needed some stress relief. And I also didn't kiss you because you were just there. I-why would you ever think that?”

 

Greg stopped, looking at Sherlock to try and get an honest answer. His heart broke a little as Sherlock cast his eyes down, shame creeping up and Greg wanted to go over and hug him. His finger itched to do it, his feet screaming to move closer but he stopped himself in time. They needed to talk this over, talk this out and going over to Sherlock now wouldn't help. He needed to be focused and clear and being near him never helped with that.

 

“Then why **did** you kiss me Greg?”

 

It was said softly, a hint of fear mingled in it and Greg couldn't think for a second. Sherlock looked at him through his laces and Greg's heart melted. _He really doesn't know how beautiful he is._ He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he watched Sherlock sit there. So beautiful and precious, it was almost too much to stay there and not go over and touch him, be near him, feel the warmth of his body. He gritted his teeth, hands closing and opening as he thought about his next words.

 

“Greg?”

 

Greg took a step closer and Sherlock looked up at him, waiting for an answer. Greg saw his chin go up and his heart did a flip. Maybe Sherlock was worried but he would be damned if he didn't face it. Whatever Greg had to say Sherlock wanted to hear and if Sherlock could be brave then he could to.

 

“Sherlock. Don't you know? Isn't it obvious by now? I've been wanting to kiss you for so long now it feels like I've been wanting to for all my life.”

 

Sherlock gasped, eyes going wide and Greg saw his hands twitch. He took another step, sitting down next to Sherlock with enough space between them. He felt the butterflies in his stomach rise, his heart beating fast. Sherlock bit his lip and Greg couldn't keep in the tiny sound. It filled up the room like an explosion and Sherlock's eyes got even darker, the colour going a fraction darker and Greg almost let out an inappropriate sound again.

 

“You have no idea what you do to me, don't you Sherlock?” Greg let out a tiny huff as Sherlock just sat there with those big eyes, looking at Greg with shock. Shock but not disgust.

 

“Sherlock? You have to give me something here, it's getting a little scary.”

 

“I. You. But why? Me?”

 

Sherlock pointed at himself in confusion, his leg bouncing up and down as he kept talking.

 

“Why would you want to kiss me? I'm not. You're. I don't. And you are.”

 

Greg reached out, taking one of Sherlock's hands and holding it.

 

“You're not making much sense love. You really didn't know?”

 

Sherlock shook his head, biting his lip again and Greg squeezed Sherlock's hand in reflex. Sherlock looked down, seeing their interlocked fingers and his face flushed.

 

“Love? You- you called me t-that.”

 

Sherlock's eyes went to Greg's face and Greg nodded his head slowly, not sure what to make of that.

 

“I did. I'm sorry Sherlock, it just slipped out, if you don't want me too then..”

 

“No! I mean, I- I don't mind, it's just-just. You _want_ me?”

 

Greg couldn't stop himself, he took both of Sherlock's hands, bringing them up to plant a soft kiss on the knuckles from each of them and he heard Sherlock gasp in surprise. He placed a second kiss on them before bringing them back down, keeping hold of them as his thumbs stroked Sherlock's wrists. They felt soft and warm and Greg wanted to stay like this forever, being allowed to hold Sherlock's hands.

 

“I've been wanting you for so long Sherlock. You're amazing, brilliant. I've never met someone like you, you're fascinating, special, beautiful.”

 

Sherlock's eyes got a dark look in them, his gaze fierce as he watched Greg, his chin going up a little.

 

“So that's why you want me? For my body and brain? I'm n-not a p-price Greg. Not a special treat for you to play with.”

 

Sherlock broke free of Greg's hold, crossing his arms as he stared down at Greg.

 

“You don't want me. Why would you? I'm a junkie and a slut. Giving it to anyone who shows me a bit of kindness! You are too good Greg! Too nice and kind, why would someone like you want me?! I'm nothing, a loser. I don't have a job, I don't have money, my own family doesn't talk to me anymore cause I screwed them over too many times to count!”

 

Greg opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock shook his head, hands going up in the air in frustration and anger. Greg reached out but Sherlock got up instead, creating space between them again as he paced the floor.

 

“You don't know a thing about me Greg! Before you saved me from that guy Mommy had kicked me out, fed up with all my tantrums and lies, the drugs, the drinking, the sex. I said the worst possible things to her, I gave her pain that no one should have to feel and I did that! Her own son! You can't want me. I'm not worth it.”

 

Greg got up, trying to speak again but Sherlock just talked over him, voice getting louder in the flat.

 

“You don't know me. You just saw what you wanted to see, a pretty boy with a brain. You must be really desperate to shag me if this is your strategy now. Why would you want me? Why Greg?! I'm nothing, no one. People don't like me, I'm not nice or normal. Hell, I read books on serial killers FOR FUN!”

 

Sherlock screamed, hands in the air as he stopped in the middle of the room, face flushed, eyes bright and burning. It took Greg's breath away and he got closer, grabbing Sherlock's wrist before Sherlock could back up again.

 

“Stop it Greg! Stop it! You don't want me, you only think you do! You can find someone better then me, someone who has a job, and money and doesn't need to live of your salary! Someone who can buy his own coat and go to work from 9 to 5! Someone who is as strong and kind as you! So let go of me, let me go and find someone else, someone better! You deserve it, you deserve the best!

 

Greg saw tears in Sherlock's eyes on the point of falling and he grabbed Sherlock closer, his arms wrapping around the man as said man struggled to break free.

 

“Greg don't, don't, I don't deserve. Please stop, let me go,you can't want me, you can't.”

 

Sherlock kept babbling, his noise pressed to Greg's neck as his body started relaxing, the weight a comforting pressure in Greg's arms. He held him tight, letting Sherlock babble and sob.

 

“Why would you want me? Why? Why? I-I Greg, I.”

 

Sherlock finally stopped, his arms going around Greg's frame and pressing himself closer, his breath on Greg's neck each time he exhaled deeply, calming down a fraction more. Greg didn't think to much about the fact that Sherlock was pressed tight against him, his sent filling his noise, the feeling of Sherlock's curls near his face, the goosebump effect of Sherlock's breath on his neck.

 

He just stood still, rubbing Sherlock's back gently while his other hand stayed still, grounding them both. Greg felt his heart race, the words inside his head spinning, trying to jump out. He took a deep breath, gently nodging Sherlock to move and after a moment Sherlock let go, his head down, tear streaks on his face.

 

“C'mon love, let's sit down.”

 

Greg took Sherlock by the arm, guiding him down, giving him a tissue and going to the kitchen to get some water. Sherlock still didn't look up as he took the glass with a broken 'thank you' and Greg sat down next to him, again keeping space.

 

“Don't.”

 

Sherlock looked up, his voice soft but firm as he moved closer, their bodies almost touching. Sherlock placed the glass down on the table, his hand going out to grab Greg's and Greg took it, squeezing it and giving a smile to Sherlock who returned it after a second, an edge of sorrow hidden in it.

 

“See why you shouldn't want me? I'm a mess Greg. You don't need...”

 

Greg shook his head, placing a finger on Sherlock's mouth and Sherlock stopped talking. Greg gave another shake of his head before removing his finger, grabbing Sherlock's hands with his own, taking a breath before speaking.

 

“You need to stop Sherlock. You think I don't know that you aren't perfect? We've been living together for some time now, I know you aren't perfect. I know Sherlock and I want you anyway.”

 

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but Greg have a stern look, squeezing Sherlock's hands again.

 

“No, now it's my turn. You are brilliant Sherlock, and smart and beautiful. Like I said, I've never met someone like you before and I admire you so much. But it's not because you're smart and beautiful that I want you. I want you for who you are Sherlock, everything, the whole package. So what if you don't have a job now. You have so many skills, you'll find the perfect job in time. And if you don't, you just invent your own. Consulting Detective or something like that.”

 

Sherlock huffed and Greg gave a smile.

 

“I am serious Sherlock! You can do almost anything you want with that brain of yours, those skills. And you do have a job right now, granted, you don't get paid nearly enough but you do get paid! And you are not living off me, you help with the rent whenever you can, you buy groceries when I forget. I'm not supporting you Sherlock, you are contributing your own part! Don't forget that!”

 

“But Greg it's not nearly...”

 

Greg held up Sherlock's hands, planting a kiss on them and Sherlock gasped again which causes Greg to smile up a little cocky at him.

 

“It's enough for me. Some things take time Sherlock and I'm more then willing to wait. Some day you will blow us all away and I'll be able to say I told you so.”

 

Sherlock let out a disbelieving laugh, trying to pull his hands away again but Greg held on, face serious.

 

“You have no idea how amazing you are. No idea how much I care for you. I don't just _want_ you Sherlock. I-I **love** you.”

 

Greg felt his heart racing inside him, ready to jump out and land on the floor. He swallowed, trying to be calm as he looked at Sherlock. It would almost be funny, the look on Sherlock's face, but Greg felt fear settle in. Sherlock's eyes got wide, his mouth opening in that 'o' shape he did when he was really surprised, his cheeks flaming up like tomatoes bleeding. Greg felt his hands go sweaty but he couldn't let go of Sherlock. He was afraid if he did, Sherlock would run for the hills and he's never see him again, this time for real.

 

“You-you what?”

 

Sherlock sat still like a statue, blinking his eyelids rapidly as his gaze was on their joined hands. Greg let out the breath he had been holding, glad Sherlock hadn't tried to walk away or scream at him how stupid he was.

 

“I love you Sherlock. I've been in love with you for a while now. I just, I didn't know how to-how to start a conversation about it. I didn't know if you felt the same and I was- I am terrified that this will ruin our friendship.”

 

Sherlock was still sitting still, too still. Greg had gotten use to the twitching of his hands or feet, the bouncing of his leg, the playing with pencils, the remote, a piece of paper. Seeing Sherlock sitting like this was making him anxious again and he noticed he was holding Sherlock's hands in a deathgrip. Sherlock didn't seem to notice or mind, just sat there, staring at their hands, blinking fast, taking shallow breaths. Greg released some of the pressure on Sherlock's hands and that seemed to bring the man back to life. He looked at Greg and really saw him, his eyes still wide, scanning Greg's face.

 

“You really mean it.”

 

It wasn't a question and Greg just shrugged a shoulder.

 

“But?”

 

“But what love?”

 

Sherlock blushed, biting his lip again and Greg wanted to kiss him so badly. It took all his self control to just sit still, waiting for Sherlock to arrange his thoughts as he kept nibbling on his lower lip. Oh, how he wanted to be the one nibbling it!

 

“But why Greg? After all I just told you. I mean it Greg, you deserve someone better then me. What could I possible give you?”

 

Sherlock's shoulders went down, a sad and longing look in his eyes.

 

“You give me everything I've ever wanted Sherlock. You see me for who I am, you trusted me, even that first night, you trusted me and allowed me to take care of you. You listen to me when I rant on about work, the news, the weather, the awful TV shows. You're able to make me laugh when I'm sad, you bring me dinner when I need it the most, you sit next to me when I had a bad day, putting on a movie you hate but I love just to help me get my mind off of things. You're just-you are everything Sherlock. Everything and when you weren't here this morning I panicked. I thought you'd left me.”

 

Sherlock shakes his head, swallowing down a lump in his throat.

 

“I'm sorry Greg, I didn't. I just couldn't stay here after you- you kissed me. I didn't.”

 

Greg releases one of Sherlock's hands, going to his cheek to cares it.

 

“You didn't what?”

 

Sherlock looked up, a blush on his face as his eyes lingered on Greg's lips.

 

“I didn't trust myself, knowing you were there, just a few doors away, knowing how your lips felt against mine, the taste of your tongue. I wanted to go back in last night, go back in and let you kiss me again. I- I was terrified.”

 

Greg felt his heart stop, the gasp of disbelief and lust after Sherlock's words. The blush on his face had gotten deeper, the beginning of desire in his eyes and Greg leaned forward, just enough space between them to breath.

 

“You wanted me to kiss you?”

 

Greg licked his lips, he felt parched and he heard a soft sound come out of Sherlock's mouth, he squeezed Sherlock's hands again and Sherlock kept looking at his lips, the blush still there.

 

“Yes.”

 

It was said breathlessly and without hesitation and Greg closed the distance, their lips connecting. Sherlock let out another tiny sound, bringing his body closer to Greg's and Greg explored Sherlock's lips with his tongue, tracing the seem, feeling the dip of that Cupid's Bow. He took Sherlock's lower lip between his teeth and bit it lightly, pulling it a little before breaking apart. Out of breath and light in the head, he felt like he was flying, weightless and happy.

 

“Greg.”

 

Greg almost moaned at the way his name came out of Sherlock's mouth, trembling and needy, it was intoxicating and dangerous and he wanted to kiss Sherlock senseless, rip off his clothes and explore every inche of skin, taste it, map it out and remember it forever.

 

Instead he gave a small peck to the side if Sherlock's mouth, feeling giddy and horny by the way Sherlock turned his head to give Greg better access, the way Sherlock's hands were grabbing his, holding him close.

 

“Greg.”

 

This time it sounded more desperate, more demanding and Greg wanted to give in, wanted to give Sherlock everything he wanted, everything he needed but for some reason it didn't feel right. He released Sherlock's hands, creating some space between them and let out a shaky breath as he looked Sherlock over. His eyes were big and glassy, hunger clear in them but mixed with something else. Sherlock's lips were red and swollen, shiny with saliva, his cheeks burning a bright red as he stared at Greg, the beginning of a frown on his face as Greg pulled back some more.

 

“Greg? Did I- is something wrong?”

 

Sherlock looked worried and afraid and Greg jump to him, shaking his head like a wild man.

“NO! No love, nothing is wrong I just. I just want to be sure I have this situation right. You said you wanted me to kiss you, does this mean you want... me?”

 

Sherlock looked struck by lightning before rolling his eyes in the most dramatic way possible.

 

“Don't be an idiot Greg! Yes, yes I want you! I've been wanting you so much it scares me. Do you know why I wanted to move out? I was sure I'd do something stupid one day, blurt something out that made you realise I care deeply for you and you'd be horrified and I didn't- I couldn't let that happen. I don't want to leave Greg, I like it here, I like you and what we share together. I just never thought that you'd want me as anything more then a friend so I needed to leave. Before I did something stupid and lost the best friendship I've had for a long time.”

 

“Oh love, come here.”

 

Greg wrapped his arms around him, feeling Sherlock's curls on his cheek as he gave him a firm hug before releasing him again.

 

“So, we are doing this? You and me? See how it goes from here?”

 

Sherlock nodded, leaning forward to kiss Greg again and Greg smiled into it, wrapping his arms around Sherlock and pressing him close. They had a lot to figure out still but Greg was hopeful. He had a chance to prove to Sherlock how much he loved him and he was going to grab it with both hands!

 


	18. Things get sexy and then go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter, you are warned.

 

 

 

Something was wrong. Horrible wrong.

 

They'd been together 3 weeks now,after the kiss and the talk and Sherlock was sure something was wrong. It didn't seem wrong at the beginning.

 

He felt happy and light as they went to bed, cuddling next to each other, talking in whispered tones, kissing and exploring each other's body. Nothing too much, nothing too heated, just feeling skin on skin, chest next to chest. Smelling each other and bundling up in the warmth their bodies created.

 

Sally had let out a little cheer as she saw them a few days later and Sherlock had turned red like a tomato, a silly grin on his face as Sally gave him a high five. Greg had frown and Sally had shrugged a shoulder, walking away with a wink in Sherlock's direction. The rest of the team hadn't noticed and Sherlock had felt a dabble of relief. This was all very new and precious and Sherlock didn't feel like sharing with the world just yet. Throwing a look at Greg he knew Greg felt the same and was grateful for it.

 

So they'd talked some more, going to dinner all over the city, watching movies at home with piles of popcorn, going to museums and just staying home, reading or talking about their day. It was perfect but Sherlock was beginning to get restless. Worry seeping in as another night past and Greg still hadn't fucked him.

 

They kissed, they touched, they cuddled but as soon as Sherlock wanted to take a step forward, his hand going down to Greg's fly he was stopped. Gently but firm, a soft smile on Greg's lips as he kissed Sherlock's knuckles, settling them down to go to sleep or watch some TV. It was infuriating and Sherlock was getting more worried by the day.

 

_He doesn't want me, he made a mistake._ Sherlock sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair as he got ready for the night. Work had been brutal and they had some time off now. Time Sherlock was going to use to show Greg how much he really loved him.

 

He looked over his body, he was still too pale but at least he started to get some fat on him, not too much, he didn't want to look more unattractive for Greg, but enough so Greg didn't have to worry he would break. Thinking about doing more then just kissing and touching made Sherlock nervous but he needed to do this, needed to show Greg how he really felt. Sex was the best way, giving himself over to Greg, doing what Greg wanted, letting Greg take him, it was the best way to show how strong his feelings were.

 

He went back to the bedroom, their bedroom now, nerves flying as he watched Greg in bed, looking up at him with fondness, his eyes going over Sherlock's body. Sherlock felt heat rise and he slipped into bed, pulling of his robe and plastering his body against Greg's, tangling their legs.

 

“Hey beautiful.”

 

Sherlock blushed as Greg kissed his forehead, going down to capture his lips, Greg's thumb stroking his cheek. Sherlock purred and Greg chuckled, deepening the kiss, a little tongue to make Sherlock moan and press closer, hands sliding into Greg's hair, pulling it lightly.

 

“Hmn, that's perfect.”

 

Greg went down to Sherlock's neck, placing tiny kisses, ending the trail with a soft bite that made Sherlock moan again. His hands went to Greg's back, scraping his nails over the fabric of Greg's t shirt and he was rewarded with a deep growl inside Greg's throat. Sherlock smiled, his tongue tracing the shell of Greg's ear before going to his neck, licking and sucking a mark on it, hands going to Greg's chest and teasing the nipples.

 

“Oh damn Sherlock!”

 

Sherlock's smile got a little wider as he pulled Greg's shirt, Greg moving so it was off in no time, exposing all that wonderful skin, the tiny hairs, the pink nipples getting hard as Sherlock blow air onto them, taking one in and sucking it.

 

“Oh love.”

 

Greg arched his back and Sherlock took the moment to move his leg slightly, feeling Greg's cock against his thigh. It made him bold and brave, this evidence that what he was doing was right and he slipped his hand down slowly, licking and teasing Greg's nipples as he went, pressing closer to feel Greg's cock hard even more.

 

His hand was just about to slip into the warm heat when Greg reached down with lightning speed, grabbing it and Sherlock couldn't stop the frustrated sigh. He looked up, a frown on his face as he moved, creating some distant to look closely at the man.

 

Greg's eyes were large and dark, his mouth red and swollen, his cheeks flushed. His nipples stood out, hard and begging to be licked again and Sherlock's eyes went lower, seeing the beginning of Greg's erection.

 

“Why aren't you fucking me Greg? You clearly want to.”

 

He saw the look of shock on Greg's face and bit his lip, eyes going down for a second, cursing himself for being so blunt. But it had been weeks now and Greg still hadn't made a move. Sherlock was close to tears and panic from worrying about it so he needed to know. And subtlety had never been his thing.

 

“Sherlock, I.”

 

“No! I need to know! It's been weeks now and you still haven't done anything but kiss and touch me. You haven't even let me give you a blowjob. I thought you wanted me Greg! What am I doing wrong? You want me, I can tell so why are you stopping me?!”

 

Sherlock reached out, palming Greg's cock and Greg cursed, taking Sherlock's hand again, holding it firmly when Sherlock tried to break out of the hold.

 

“Love. Of course I want you, please don't doubt how much I want you. I just want to take it slow, do this right. There's no rush Sherlock, we have time, all the time in the world.”

 

Greg smiled, placing a kiss on Sherlock's hand but Sherlock felt even more angry. He freed his hand, sitting up and crossing his arms as Greg sat up too, a worried expression on his face.

 

“It's sex Greg, as long as you stick it the right way it can't go wrong. Why are you cuddling me like this, I'm not a child! I've had sex before, I can take it! Whatever you want to do Greg, you can have me!”

 

Sherlock hated the pleading edge to his voice and he felt sick as he saw the look on Greg's face.

 

“You-you don't want me. That's it isn't it? You made a mistake and now you're stuck with me.”

 

Sherlock felt like throwing up as he moved to get out of bed. Greg's hand grabbed him, almost pulling him under the man and he wanted to fight, to scream. Instead Greg kissed him with so much passion and care it was overwhelming and Sherlock was panting by the time they broke apart.

 

“I want you Sherlock. Okay? I'll always want you.” It was said sternly, Greg's eyes on fire and Sherlock nodded, afraid to look up too long in Greg's eyes.

 

“It's not just sex Sherlock, this is you and me. It's special, you're special and I want to do this right for you. I want to give you pleasure, make you moan and scream out my name because it's so good.”

 

Sherlock looked into Greg's eyes, passion simmering and Sherlock bucked up his body, his half hard cock connecting with Greg's leg. Greg let out a moan, closing his eyes briefly and Sherlock took the moment to kiss him, his hands planted on Greg's arse to pull him closer.

 

“Fuck Sherlock.”

 

“That's the idea Greg.”

 

Before Greg could respond Sherlock kissed him, his hands squeezing Greg's firm arse and they both moaned as their cocks brushed together.

 

“Sherlock, Sherlock please stop.”

 

Greg broke off their kiss, trying to create some space but Sherlock kept him in place, wrapping his legs around Greg.

 

“I'm not going to break Lestrade. I want you to fuck me, want you to take me. Do whatever you want with me, I'm yours.”

 

Sherlock moved his body, sucking another mark onto Greg's neck and he felt Greg's cock give a twitch at his words. He knew it!

 

“I'll always be yours. Let me show you how grateful I am, please, please fuck me Greg.”

 

Sherlock's hands squeezed Greg's arse, kissing him as filthy as possible and Greg let out a moan, grabbing Sherlock's hair as he deepened the kiss, rutting his body lightly against Sherlock's.

 

_Finally_. Sherlock let his head fall back, eyes closed as Greg went down his body, opening up his shirt to expose his skin. Warm hands stroked his sides and he got goosebumps as Greg kissed and licked his nipples, mumbling praise and endearments along the way.

 

“So beautiful,so gorgeous. Look at you, perfect. You're perfect.”

 

He felt his cheeks burn as Greg kept talking, leaving a trail of kisses and licks along his chest and stomach, going down to his waistband. Greg nuzzled Sherlock's bulge, moaning next to it and Sherlock felt a shiver run down his spine. Greg placed a kiss near his bellyhole, looking up and Sherlock shook his head, eyes closing again as he felt Greg remove his pants, his cock springing free.

 

“Perfect love.”

 

Sherlock placed an arm over his eyes but Greg didn't notice, the tip of his tongue licking the slit and Sherlock bucked up. He felt a tightness in his chest that wasn't there before, his heart beating too fast, too rapidly. He felt Greg's tongue leave a trail down his thigh, Greg's hands on his hips and he took a deep breath, feeling his legs shake as Greg gave a tiny bite on his thigh.

 

“Gorgeous love, all mine.”

 

Sherlock bit his lips, trying not to scream as Greg gave another compliment, his breath ghosting on Sherlock's cock. Sherlock felt the tightness in his chest going down to his belly and he breathed again, trying to stop it before Greg noticed. Greg's tongue was at his cockhead again, licking it and suckling it lightly, moaning around it and Sherlock wanted to be a good partner, a good lover.

 

He made a fist with his other hand, biting down on it and that's when Greg went off, taking his warmth with him. He heard Greg call out but couldn't understand what he was saying, felt the blankets being placed over him but he couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't even remove his arm and open his eyes. His body was shaking, stomach churning and he felt tears roll down his cheeks as the bed dipped down, a tentative hand placed on his shoulder.

 

“Sherlock? Sherlock, please look at me.”

 

Greg almost couldn't speak, swallowing down the fear as he watched Sherlock laying there under the blankets, shaking, chest moving up and down as he took deep and fast breaths. He saw Sherlock's body shake, the tears rolling down his face and he reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder, afraid it would be pushed away but wanting to comfort him none the less.

 

Sherlock didn't move for a long time and Greg wasn't sure he even felt his hand, heard him speak. It broke his heart seeing Sherlock like this and he hated himself for not noticing sooner, for not questioning Sherlock more. He should have known it was too soon but when Sherlock begged him to fuck him Greg had lost control, wanting so desperately to feel Sherlock, to mark him, to claim him as his.

 

He felt disgust rise inside himself as the minutes past, Sherlock slowly calming down, his intake of breath more controlled then before. Why hadn't he stopped this? Why had he lost control like that? He should have know there'd be consequences from that night at the club, the night by met. He'd been foolish and selfish and now Sherlock was paying the prize for it.

 

After what felt like a lifetime Sherlock was calm again, tears had stopped falling and his body was still, too still. He still hadn't said a word, hadn't opened his eyes to look at Greg and Greg felt his heart tighten. Is he disgusted with me?

 

“Sherlock? Can you hear me now?”

 

Sherlock's hand twitched, the one near his body and he nodded his head as best he could, his arm still covering his eyes, biting down on his lip.

 

“Please stop doing that, you'll draw blood.”

 

Greg took a risk and used his thumb to try and pull Sherlock's lip free. Sherlock's head turned to him, releasing his lip and Greg let out a sigh, glad Sherlock wasn't moving away from him.

 

“Can you remove your arm please? I need to see you. Please love.”

 

Greg waited with fear in his heart and he saw a shiver run down Sherlock's body before he slowly removed his arm, placing it on his stomach on top of the sheets. His eyes were still closed and Greg took a moment to look at his face. Beautiful even when streaking with tears. He turned to the nightstand, grabbing a handful of tissues.

 

“Can I clean up your face love?”

 

Another shiver and a nod and Greg took his time to gently wiped away most of the tears. Sherlock kept his eyes closed, breathing steady as Greg worked. After he was done, he turned again to dispose of the tissues, taking a breath to try and calm down, to think. Sherlock was laying half naked under the sheets, Greg on top of them, his clothes back on. His partner looked fragile and broken and Greg didn't know what to do, what to say. He knew they should talk about this, but didn't know how to begin, where to start.

 

“I'm sor- I'm sorry G-Greg.”

 

Sherlock whispered, face turned to Greg but eyes still closed, a hint of pink on his pale face and Greg reached out, stroking Sherlock's cheek with his thumb. Sherlock flinched a little and Greg bit his lip, sadness washing over him.

 

“I- I'm sorry. I didn't m-mean to. W-we can try again, I know I can be g-good for you.”

 

Sherlock rattled, breathing coming faster again the more he talked, his hands twitching.

 

“G-Give me another chance, I- I'll be good, I swear. You can still f-fuck me, please Greg, please. I'm s-sorry.”

 

Greg felt the hairs at his neck rise,the beginning of understanding seep in as Sherlock kept talking, convincing Greg he was still fuckable, that he could take it, that he would do whatever Greg wanted him too.

 

“Sherlock stop! Stop it right now!”

 

Greg's voice filled the room and Sherlock fell silent, his heart hammering away as he waited for Greg to scream some more, to walk out, to never come back again. He really didn't know what he wanted more, for Greg to stay or for him to go.

 

“Sherlock, Sherlock please, open your eyes. I'm not going away, I'm not mad. Please look at me, talk to me. You're scaring me love. Please.”

 

Sherlock heard the plea and sadness in Greg's voice, the soft touch of a hand on his own and he opened his eyes slowly, still convinced Greg would scream and walk away, calling him a freak, a weirdo, a tease. When he finally had his eyes open and got the courage to look at Greg he only saw concern and love and it was so unexpected he wanted to cry again. Greg gently squeezed his hand before letting go, getting up and moving to the door and Sherlock felt panic raise.

 

“Don't leave me! I'm sorry, I know I was wrong! Please don't leave me!”

 

Greg was back in a flash, concern morphed into fear as he grabbed Sherlock, holding him tight and stroking his back.

 

“I'm not leaving Sherlock, I just wanted to get you some water, something to nibble maybe. Crying always makes me thirsty and I want to help you. I'm not leaving you, I would never do that. Can I get you a glass of water love?”

 

Sherlock felt shame all over his body as Greg's words sunk in, nodding his head. Greg came back with a bottle of water and a box of Sherlock's favourite cookies, handing them over before sitting down on top of the sheets next to him, leaving some space.

 

Sherlock drank small sips, the water helping to smooth his throat and took a cookie, taking a bite before placing it back down. His stomach did a flip and he couldn't risk throwing up after all the drama he'd done already. Greg hadn't left yet but he still could and Sherlock didn't want to give him another reason.

 

“Better?”

 

Greg's voice was soft as he took the cookies out if Sherlock's hands, placing them on the nightstand. Sherlock only now noticed the space between them, Greg on top of the covers and it made him frown, worry creeping up again as he looked at Greg.

 

“Just wasn't sure if you wanted me close love, don't read anything more into it.”

 

“I always want you close.”

 

Greg gave a warm smile and moved, holding Sherlock in his arms. He shivered again and Greg reached out, grabbing a blanket and placing it over his shoulders, bundling him up.

 

“We need to talk Sherlock.”

 

Sherlock felt his heart do a flip, dread settling in as Greg watched him, a patient expression on his face. He knew they needed to talk, he knew he had some explaining to do but he was so tired, so dreaned. He cuddled closer to Greg, a sigh escaping his lips as Greg held him, just held him. He felt warm and save and that was enough.

 

“Greg I. I'm sorry.”

 

He whispered, his face half covered, heart beating a little faster as the words came out.

 

“I didn't know I would react like this. I don't- please don't think I don't want you. I want you so much, I was ready to. I was ready to show you how much you mean to me. I'm sorry I messed up.”

 

He felt a kiss inside his curls and he couldn't stop the smile. Greg was so good, so patient and kind. He was precious and Sherlock loved him so much. Why couldn't he give Greg what he deserved?!

 

“Sherlock, you didn't...”

 

“Greg no! Let me, let me explain. Please.”

 

Sherlock couldn't look at Greg right now, just breathing in his scent was enough as Greg held him tight, feeling the warmness of his body.

 

“Can you- can you come under the covers with me?”

 

“Sure love.”

Greg let go of him, moving around and getting into bed, wrapping Sherlock in his arms again as soon as he was settled. Sherlock's head rested in the crook of Greg's shoulder, his arms wrapped around Greg's waist, their legs tangled. It felt like home and Sherlock wanted to cry with relief that he was still allowed to do this. That Greg was still here.

 

“What happened just now Sherlock?”

 

Sherlock took a breath, he really didn't want to do this, try to explain to Greg what was on his mind, his worries and doubts but he had to. He wanted to make this work, wanted to be with Greg and they needed to be honest.

 

“I'm not the best at this. Relationships and feelings. I don't talk about it, I hardly ever talk except to do deductions, scare people off. Then I met you and well.”

 

Sherlock gave a tiny smile, pressing closer for a second before letting go again.

 

“You are so open Greg, so honest and sincere. I know what you think, what you feel by just looking at you. You never lie to me, never pretend to be someone else. You show me everyday how much you love me, you tell me constantly and I. I know I don't do that. Not enough.”

 

Sherlock felt Greg's chest expand, ready to comment and he shook his head lightly.

 

“No Greg, it's true. I'm bad at telling people who I care for them, I take them for granted and then wonder why they leave me. Finally being official I knew we'd have sex, it's what people in love do right? So when you kept turning me down I got worried.”

 

Sherlock stopped, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He hated being exposed like this, vulnerable.

 

“Sherlock, I.”

 

“You couldn't have known Greg, I didn't mention it. But the days turned to weeks and I was sure it was my fault, I was sure you'd changed your mind by then. We kissed, we cuddled but that was it and for a man as vibrant and alive like you it can't be enough. So there had to be a reason.”

 

“Sherlock, I love you! Having sex or not doesn't change that,I would never ask you for something you aren't willing to give. Love, please look at me.”

 

Sherlock looked up, seeing the sadness and love in Greg's eyes and he blushed. Causing Greg pain made him feel pain and he leaned forward, brushing his lips to Greg's. Greg have a content sigh and Sherlock lingered longer, the tip of his tongue tracing Greg's top lip. It felt normal and good and Sherlock gave a soft sound of his own, Greg's hands going to his cheek to caress it. Sherlock nearly purred before Greg broke it off, eyes fixed on him.

 

“Don't distract me Sherlock.”

 

Sherlock gave a huff followed by a cheeky smile before settling down again.

 

“I couldn't figure it out. You clearly wanted me, when we kissed you showed all the signs of sexual arousal but still you stopped me. I was getting angry, I'm sorry Greg. I just didn't understand why you didn't want me to show you how much I cared, how much I love you.”

 

“This,” Sherlock gestured between them and then the bedroom,” is the only way I know how to show you what I feel. I wanted so badly to show you, wanted to make you understand that I love you deeply with every kiss, every caress, every thrust.”

 

He looked up at Greg briefly after hearing the intake of breath and saw Greg's eyes had gone darker a shade.

 

“I'm sorry I let you down Greg. I- I panicked. I kept seeing images of- of that night in the club, other times when- when it didn't work out well. It just got too much and I froze. PLEASE, please believe me when I say I love you! I want to prove it to you, I'm sure I can control it now, I'm sure I can let you fuck me like you want to.”

 

Sherlock felt his heart do a flip as he spoke out the words. He wanted to feel Greg, kiss him, taste him, he really did, but just speaking it out loud made him feel a little sick, a little anxious.

 

“Sherlock, I don't want to fuck you. You're making it sound like a job, a chore you have to do, something you dread. I don't want to fuck you. I want to make love to you. Show you how much I love you. I want this to be pleasant experience for us both Sherlock, not just me.”

 

Greg moved, trying to sit up and Sherlock reluctantly let go of Greg. He saw the look on Greg's face and felt his cheeks burn again, clearly this was not what Greg wanted to hear. They sat next to each other, eyes fixed for a moment and Sherlock saw Greg think, the wheels in his head turning.

 

“And if it turns out you don't like it then that's fine too. We don't have to do it all Sherlock, there isn't a manual for this. Just us deciding what works best for us both. Like I said before, I don't mind taking it slow. Our make out sessions have been the best ones I've ever had, I'm not complaining here Sherlock. Even if I'm vibrant and alive.”

 

Greg smirked at that and Sherlock's blush got deeper. He cast his eyes down and Greg touched his cheek, making him look up again.

 

“I'm not mocking you love. It's just, this is give and take Sherlock. From both sides. We can take it step by step, figure out what we like and don't like. I love you Sherlock, I would never do anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. Seeing you just now, it. It killed me Sherlock. Promise me you'll never do this again. Promise me you'll stop me in time, that you'll say no.”

 

Greg's eyes were pleading, his voice commanding and Sherlock nodded. He wanted to do good, to make this work and it wouldn't be easy. In the past people hadn't listened to him when he said stop so after a while he'd just trying, getting it over with. It seemed with Greg there was a new set of rules and he wanted to follow them.

 

“I'm sorry I made you freak out Greg.”

 

“Stop it Sherlock, don't say sorry for finding your limits. We just have to make sure we don't cross them again, ever.”

 

There was determination and fire in Greg's eyes and Sherlock could only nod, seeing Greg like this was amazing and it made him want to kiss him again so he did, biting Greg's lip before letting go, a spark of pride and joy as he saw Greg's dazed gaze, the redness of his lips, the lust in his eyes.

 

“I. I love you Greg. I know I'm not easy, this isn't easy but I'll do my best. I want to make this work Greg. I want you.”

 

“Well, that's good cause I want to make this work too love. Let's call it a day, okay Sherlock? It's been a stressful day and I could use some sleep.”

 

Greg kissed Sherlock's forehead before sliding down under the covers, Sherlock close behind to wrap himself around the man. He found his nook near Greg's shoulder, there legs tangled together again.

 

“I love you Sherlock, it took a while to get to this point but I'll do anything in my power to make this work. Night love.”

 

Sherlock gave a content sigh as Greg kissed his curls, wiggling around to get more comfortable. Soon Sherlock felt himself drift to sleep, warm and safe in Greg's arms. Things weren't perfect yet but Sherlock had hope they would be.

 

 

THE END

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! It took us a while to get here but I am happy with how it turned out. They aren't there just yet but I have faith they will make it work! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it and if you can't get enough of my version of Sherlock and Greg, I started posting a new Sherstrade story that takes place after season 2, when Sherlock comes back from his fall. 
> 
> Hope to see you and if you like my work you can always leave me a comment to tell me :D


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